Shoudou
by Ego And Psyche
Summary: Usami Akihiko, with his kindness and unreadable smile and beautiful words...was Hiroki's first love. But what Hiroki never knew was that maybe, in some innocent way, Akihiko had given him some of his own firsts too. Maybe Akihiko was caught in his own world of impulses... rated M for the blindfold scene in Chapter 22.
1. Fire at First

_Shoudou_

**A/N: My OTP is Egoist, but I couldn't really help myself on this one. Though I love me some good Akihiko action, I've always found myself hating him when he talks to Hiroki. IMHO he was a bit of an ass for not realizing that he could have had that delicious, sexy man all to himself :P because, well, I wouldn't have passed up that chance. So in an attempt to marry these two opinions of the rabbit enigma I ended up writing this.**

**And while I'm at it…a big thank you to Cerberus Revised and TokyoSuite for those lovely long reviews on 'Sensei'! Soulfighter and Damons too I don't say it in summaries because it looks like fishing, but I'm actually completely new to writing fanfiction :D So those reviews had me so high I could hear my dead ancestors having a drinking party. It did tons for my self-confidence and so I spewed this one out in around an hour. Pfft.**

Usami Akihiko's world unblurred itself slowly, teasingly.

There were wide brown eyes staring into his own.

_I'm hungry _was the first coherent thought that formed itself in Akihiko's heavy head. He placed a palm against the warm, dry grass and pushed himself up, rubbing his eyes with his free hand and rumbling sleepily. _I must have nodded off while writing. _The notebook was still lying next to him.

The owner of the eyes was still there too, and Akihiko could feel his gaze—blazing hot and somehow soothing, like sunlight.

'Hey, this is _my_ secret base! You can't come in here without my permission!'

The voice, deep and growly for a young boy, ground into the empty air; Akihiko raised his eyes to look at the boy properly for the first time.

He had hair the color of wet earth and smooth, unrippled skin. He was roughly the same height as Akihiko but somehow gave the impression of being a lot taller. _Maybe it's because of his voice?_ He was standing with his arms folded in a slightly ridiculous kendo outfit that did nothing to make him look any less imposing, especially from Akihiko's disadvantaged angle. He was also scowling expertly.

He was lovely.

'How do I ask permission?'

He seemed to be thrown off-balance by the question—_I wonder why? Isn't that what anyone would ask?—_and spluttered briefly before rallying again. 'Um', he began slowly. 'Since it's permission, you've got to say "please".'

'Please', said Akihiko automatically. He sat straight and looked at the boy evenly, violet and brown meeting and tumbling in embarrassed confusion. Akihiko had a vague, slightly unsettling feeling that he wasn't just asking for permission to visit the 'base'.

The boy looked taken aback again. 'Huh?'

_What's up with him? He talks like he's used to all this, but when I say the simplest things, he gets all tangled up. _'Please', Akihiko repeated.

There was a drop of sunlight hanging off the boy's head, clinging to the tip of one silky brown lock. It glimmered and winked at Akihiko as the owner of the wide eyes stammered out his hesitant 'permission'.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

'So how'd you find this place anyway?' the boy asked presently; Akihiko had gone back to his writing, feeling inordinately shy. He couldn't look straight at the boy, who'd introduced himself as Kamijou Hiroki, adding that he already knew who Akihiko was.

'I thought no one else knew about it', said Hiroki after a pause. His expression turned sulky and somewhat resentful. Akihiko wondered briefly if he really was intruding on Hiroki's personal space, decided to pretend that he didn't care, and began explaining.

'I tried to pet a cat on the street, but it ran away and I ended up following it here.' Trying to shield the slightly nauseous anxiety building in him for no good reason, he studied Hiroki's reaction as carefully as he could. Hiroki's perpetual scowl had eased out while asking his question, and it hadn't returned, but he was still silent. Akihiko felt monumentally stupid.

'The sky drifts lazily in this leafy space', he said at length, for lack of better things to say. 'The combination of white and blue and green is dazzling.' That was the truth, but Akihiko still felt sharply tense: it was like complimenting someone on their home decor. _It may be my house, but this is still his base._

Hiroki's head had risen at Akihiko's last remark; those unsettling eyes were now observing him intently. Akihiko dropped his gaze back to his notebook and squiggled meaninglessly on the paper. _I can't remember what I was going to write at all._

_This feeling is something different, and I'm not sure I like it._

The beads of sunlight in Hiroki's hair seemed to rattle about as he rested his head on his arms and thought of things Akihiko could not possibly know.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

At school, the girls loved Akihiko. He could tell as he stood in front of the class, his name chalked on the board; he could also see, with the same intensity, the distinctly hostile air emanating from the boys. And, in the midst of it all, more clearly than anything else, he could see, feel, and even taste Hiroki's eyes on him.

Those eyes never seemed to lose the flustered, but assessing look that made Akihiko so jittery. _I have nothing to prove to this guy. What's wrong with me?_

It was natural that they ended up sitting together. Hiroki was still looking on unabashedly, and Akihiko tried to keep his face as impassive as possible throughout the day.

_I won't sit with the girls and I can't sit with the other boys. It's not like I don't want to sit with Hiroki._ The only problem was, sitting there for the rest of the year, trying to still his restless fingers and _(why the hell is my heart thumping?)_ his unreasoning anxiety…sounded extremely tiring.

They'd go off together after classes to the 'base'. Akihiko found the name rather childish, though he never said so out loud, and had to remind himself that they _were_ children. The thought rooted him to his otherwise calm self and gave him a new fortitude. _We're just kids. This feeling doesn't make any sense, so I should probably just forget about it._

And for a few weeks, he really did forget. Hiroki was needle-sharp under his blustery exterior and made a good friend. Akihiko found it easier now than ever to lose track of time as the amount of actual writing he did at the base decreased, edged out by new things. Reading books Hiroki lent him. Working on the silliest of 'secret operations'. Lying against the deliciously soft grass, staring at the fathomless sky, and just talking.

_I don't really think I've ever 'just talked' to anyone before in my life. It's so easy with him._

A good friend…he supposed Hiroki was his best friend, for that matter, if by default more than anything else. In the long, comfortable lulls that often punctuated their conversations in the green tunnel, Akihiko silently began listing the people who were part of his life, or had been.

_Hiroki_

_Dad_

_Mum_

_Haruhiko…I guess._

_The nurse at the hospital I used to go to in England._

…_Edward?_

Swiftly, stubbornly, he pushed all thoughts of Edward from his mind before getting back to business.

His parents were hardly even real parents, and a far cry from 'friends' even with each other. Haruhiko essentially didn't exist in his life. The nurse was gone, and she'd had a life of her own anyway. Hiroki really was the only person whom he could claim as a friend, and who he knew saw him as one too.

_I can't really admit this even to myself, but the thought that I can claim him in some way…feels good._ More than good. It felt easy. It wasn't the feeling of exhilaration that follows an obstacle overcome, but the weak relief of submitting to a mad, impossible urge.

_He's like an impulse that I want to control and can't._

Akihiko felt some semblance of content as he allowed his eyelids the luxury of drifting down. The black shuttered his vision against the onslaught of evening sunlight, and the deep rustles among the grass that were Hiroki's relaxed breaths only soothed him further.

_We're only children. I'm worrying about silly things only because I'm so young. It's all fine._

It _was_ all fine. But only until Hiroki cried.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**A/N: Because when Hiroki cried, a whole new can of worms was opened, ne? To be continued! ^^ Reviews are loved and appreciated. You have no idea (I certainly didn't until I began writing myself) the good they do :D and 'shoudou', as you'll know if you love the JR Season 2 opening song as much as I do, means 'impulse'. **


	2. Touch

_Touch_

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Akihiko's lips touched Hiroki's so swiftly that the other boy was too dazed to react. Furiously, Akihiko grappled with the urge to let his tongue into Hiroki's mouth.

_He's always doing this, making me want to lose control. And he doesn't even realize. So I've got to be quick now._ He knew there wasn't much time before Hiroki pulled away, and he wanted to memorize the feeling. Hiroki tasted…_like nothing I've tasted before. I can't compare this taste to anything. He tastes like Hiroki._

He could feel Hiroki's hot emotion in his own mouth, thick and flowing. His cheeks were tickled by wet eyelashes and his lips by gasping breaths. _I hope this does cheer him up, _he thought wildly. _I can't see him like this. I'll never be able to see him straight like this. I'll do strange things to him that he doesn't even know about now._

It was over in two seconds flat. Hiroki was spluttering incoherently as he leaned away, tears still staining his cheeks, eyes shining like two suns. 'Wha—w—what was—'

'You didn't seem to be listening to what I had to say', said Akihiko with a calm he didn't feel. _Calm…I'm so calm. He always makes me feel so calm, even though I know my insides are all worked up._ 'So that's a little charm to cheer you up. The boy next door in England taught it to me.' Hiroki didn't seem to be listening much even now; he was half-glaring, half gaping at Akihiko, who ordered his mind to stay still and looked back with cool composure.

_It's funny how I don't even mind talking about Edward like this._ For the first time, he was thankful for what had happened with the 'boy next door'. _A man wanted to taste me, that's all…he taught me how to taste others, too. I tasted Hiroki like a man._

Tears had pearled and spilled down Hiroki's cheeks, clinging to his eyelashes, slanting into his mouth.

_Our tunnel of green dissolved into a tunnel of fire. Orange and red and pink and brown. And you were standing in the center of it all, looking like _that_. I really couldn't help myself._

_My thoughts are getting a little jumbled up._ Akihiko shook his head in an effort to clear it. 'Are you going to listen to me now or not?'

Hiroki nodded numbly.

'If you want to quit only because you're stressed, learn to deal with it. You don't want to quit anything, but you want time to yourself too—that's just immature. One way or the other, you're going to have to make a sacrifice.'

Hiroki was looking at him like none of it had gone past his ears. 'Hiroki?'

'Nothing', said Hiroki jerkily, finally remembering to wipe his face. His sleeve left some of the tear stains untouched. 'Thanks for the advice. I'll follow it. Though I didn't get most of what you were saying.'

_I'm not apologizing for what I did, but…_frowning, Akihiko tried to read Hiroki's expression; Hiroki squirmed and blushed under the scrutiny. _You're not mad? No, you're not…just in shock._

'Good', said Akihiko, but he'd forgotten what he was replying to. 'It's a little late now, the sun's going to set, so I'll walk you home then.'

'Ok', said Hiroki, voice higher than usual and trembling. They began making their way out of the clearing, which was now turning darker, the fiery hues seeming to melt in their own inferno. _The tunnel of fire is soon going to become a tunnel of ice._ Silently, Akihiko marveled at the place he—they—had discovered. _We saw only the green, but there are so many sides to it. And it's all ours._

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It was a couple of hundred yards ahead that Hiroki sneezed. Akihiko observed the breath clouds pooling in front of his friend, fascinated. It had become really cold without their realizing—_and I can still feel his heat in my mouth, so I wouldn't be cold anyway_—and Hiroki was visibly shivering now.

'I wish I'd brought my gloves', he said plaintively, lips pursing in a rueful grimace. Lips that had been pressed against Akihiko's minutes ago.

Akihiko didn't stop to think, and his right glove was in his outstretched hand before he knew what was happening. _I think I just gave in to an urge again._

Hiroki took the glove gingerly, frozen fingers moving across and into the wool. 'What am I supposed to do with only one glove?' his voice was petulant now; petulant with a trace of guilt.

_One more won't hurt. Not after what I did._

'Good point', said Akihiko, allowing half a smile to form on his face. 'That's why…' he trailed off as his bare hand grasped Hiroki's. Though his skin was naturally cold, he'd just taken off his glove so he hoped it would be enough to warm Hiroki up. The other boy's fingers felt chilly on the surface, but there was warm life throbbing just beneath.

The other boy looked ready to explode with embarrassment, but his feeble efforts to tug his hand away soon died down. 'Akihiko, we're both guys', he said, a note of pleading laced with the irritation.

'It doesn't matter', said Akihiko firmly. _Be still, heart. I'm trying to speak straight._ 'You—you're not cold anymore, are you?'

'No', said Hiroki awkwardly, 'but—!'

'Good', said Akihiko, and the smile turned into a real one. He turned his face away and kept his eyes straight ahead. There was a curiously strong pulse beating in the palm-sized patch of skin where their hands were clasped together, and Akihiko once more ordered his heart to calm itself.

_Thadump_

Hiroki was looking ahead too, but his face was flushed and eyes were wide. _His eyes are always wide. It's like he isn't seeing enough right now, and wants to see even more._

Akihiko hoped Hiroki wouldn't see how foggy his mind had become.

'I don't think it'd help if I told you to stop trying so hard', he heard himself say.

_Thadump_

Akihiko looked down at the sidewalk, at the leaf-vein cracks with grass blades poking out. The grass looked bluish too in the dark. _And cold. I hope Hiroki really isn't cold anymore._

'Maybe', he continued slowly, 'you're meant to work your tail off and achieve something great.'

_Thadump_

He could feel the heartbeat—his heartbeat, Hiroki's heartbeat—meshed together in his hand. For a moment, only one, he wondered if Hiroki was holding his heart without meaning to. _I feel like his heart is coming out through his hand and resting in mine._

_I don't want it. I still don't know if I like this feeling._

_Thadump_

Their feet were tapping gently on the concrete, like a timorous guest knocking on the door. _If I drop Hiroki right to his doorstep, I might get invited in. I won't stay. I have to get home. I need to_

_Thadump_

'You've got your next swim meet coming up, right? Can I come to cheer you on?' his voice had flown into a complete different octave by the end of the sentence. He brought it down again and cleared his throat.

_I need to sort myself out before I see him again. Touching him is not good for my peace of mind._ Tap, tap-tap, tap. Tap, tap-tap, tap. Their uncoordinated strides tapped the last few steps to Hiroki's house. Hiroki nodded his assent.

_Thadump_

Hiroki let go of Akihiko's hand and peeled off his glove. 'Thanks for keeping me warm', he said quietly. Too quietly.

_For one taste, I've changed him. It is because of me, isn't it?_

And now there was another impulse ringing in him, bubbling and urgent…Akihiko smiled hesitantly as he took the glove back. _Please, please let him think that my fingers are trembling because of the cold._

The urge pulsated in his mouth like a heart. _If it sets things right, I need to apologize._

'I'm—' _sorry._

'Hey, Akihiko, wanna come in for a while?'

'Eh?' said Akihiko blankly. 'Huh? Oh, no, I…I need to get back. I'll be yelled at.' _I won't, but Tanaka might get in trouble._

'Oh, all right then, I'll see you tomorrow', said Hiroki; his voice was still jerky but he seemed more like himself, and Akihiko relaxed. _I can't do anything like that again. The things he makes me want to do are dangerous if you don't understand them._

'Ja, ne', he said softly, turning. He heard Hiroki's mumbled 'yeah' and the swish and pat-tap of Hiroki's footsteps away from him.

_Sorry…_the word resonated in his heart, bled repentance_._ But after that slice of regret, Akihiko felt stronger now. _He could have freaked out, and he did, but not as much as I'd feared._

He shook his head again, making his solitary way back to his house. _We still have time. We're just children. If I can just…stop this urge…suppress it for a few more years…we aren't going anywhere. He'll be old enough to understand in a while. All I have to do is fold this strange desire in half and keep it somewhere in a hidden pocket. The desire to touch. It's coming so soon. Too soon._

_I don't know what I'm thinking,_ he realized. The leaves rustled around him as he walked up the driveway. _For the first time since I was a baby, I don't know what I'm thinking._

Hiroki had tasted neither bad nor good; he'd just tasted like himself. Akihiko licked his lips subconsciously at the memory. _I'm glad I didn't let my tongue escape. It was fighting with me. _Hiroki would really have died of shame. _But I really…couldn't help myself._ Hiroki had stood in the tunnel of fire, face glistening with tears.

_Some of the tear tracks caught the rays of the sun and made it look like his face was on fire. I wanted to cool him down at that moment. _The crunch of his feet against the gravel is nothing like Hiroki's tapping on the steps to his house.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

'Akihiko-sama!'

Tanaka was standing at the door. Akihiko frowned. _It isn't the first time I've been out this late._ 'Akihiko-sama, you should know better than to wonder off in this cold.'

'I made a friend', said Akihiko tonelessly, shouldering out of his overcoat as the mansion, only marginally warmer than the outside air, swallowed him up. Tanaka shut the massive doors behind them and smiled his approval. 'That's good to hear. Is he of your age?'

'Yeah. He's my classmate.'

'Even better! It would be splendid if you were to invite him over every once in a while, Akihiko-sama', said Tanaka, beaming. 'I am sure he would be delighted.'

_Delighted? Why would I wish this infernal house on anybody else? _'Yeah, okay', he mumbled. 'Tanaka-san, what's for dinner?' _I don't need a second voice bolstering thoughts of Hiroki. Not when my mind is doing a splendid job of it already._

_I can't go on giving in to these impulses._ He groaned inwardly. _And I can't keep dwelling on this, either. _His mind was drawn to his confusion from wherever else it flitted. It was infuriating, and yet…every time he found himself thinking about the same thing, there was that accompanying sense of relief. The pleasant weakness of submission.

'Akihiko-sama…what's the name of this new friend?'

_Why do you want to know so much?_ He knew the answer to that, though…_because my making any sort of friend is a pretty big deal, as I realized myself a few days ago. _'Kamijou Hiroki.' His voice was level. Deceptively calm as always. His still waters ran so deep, if someone like Tanaka tried to reach the bottom they'd get consumed by the pressure. It was convenient, though, when he was trying to mask turbulences like those that were beginning to burgeon inside of him.

'Kamijou Hiroki', said Tanaka thoughtfully. 'Isn't that the son of the family across the street? I believe you have visited their home once.'

_Oh, yeah._ Akihiko remembered now. _He hadn't made much of an impression on me then, though. And we'd visited so many homes to say hello._ He frowned. _Or maybe…I had to see him in the secret place to find him so different?_

Hiroki hadn't been leaning over Akihiko or anything when he'd woken up that day, but his vision had been entirely captured by Hiroki's eyes, wide and questioning and angry _and so beautiful. _Akihiko couldn't suppress the tremor that ripped through him as he went to his room. _And he looked even more beautiful in that beautiful place I thought I'd been the first to find._

…_I really, really couldn't help myself today._

_The reason I find myself so easily swallowed by what I want to do is…is that I'm completely new to these feelings._

_Kamijou Hiroki is my first impulse._

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**A/N: 'I really couldn't help myself' is a throwback to Hiroki's self-justification of the whole blindfold fiasco. :D just thought I'd mess around. I haven't got any reviews for chappie 1 yet, but it hasn't even been 24 hours since I uploaded so what the hey. Plus I guess you need at least two chapters to really get into a multi-chaptered fic, ne?**


	3. Just Look

_Just Look_

The only difference between the Hiroki he usually saw and the Hiroki he saw the next day was that this Hiroki was absorbed in a Japanese dictionary. 'I looked up that stupid phrase of yours', he said with half a scowl, the moment Akihiko entered the clearing. 'I found out what it meant. I don't think continuing with my classes will do me that much harm, so I'm going to keep at it until I do explode.'

A wry smile twisted his rose-lipped mouth as he went back to reading. Akihiko got out his notebook and, by the time he'd glanced up at Hiroki again, the grimace on the other boy's face had softened into a genuine smile. _He's lost to the world now. Even if I keep looking at him forever and ever, he won't realize it until he shuts the book._

But Akihiko had made a decision last night after eleven PM, when he finally tired of the sound of his bedsheets rustling every time he turned. _I have got to stop. Even if it is only for a little while, I need to let up on this…whatever it is._

Resolve strong and full of bravado, he sank back into his story.

He was just finishing a particularly frustrating paragraph when Hiroki spoke. 'What do you keep writing in there, anyway?' he asked abruptly. The question sliced into Akihiko's distant mind and, far from feeling annoyed, he suppressed a smile. _I honestly thought he'd never ask._

Externally, his face was impassive and he refused to raise his head. 'Words', he said baldly.

Hiroki scowled. 'Don't kid with me! You're just a subordinate! I found this place first, so I'm the captain here!'

_Captain? First time I'm hearing that. _'That's fine, but…' Akihiko's expression was deadpan. 'This is my house, you know.'

Hiroki first turned red, then purple. 'Y-You're lying! This is a forest, isn't it?'

'You came here through a hole in the wall, right?' asked Akihiko, calm as ever, while Hiroki's face was changing colors like a hurricane. 'Beyond that wall is my front door.'

'So—so my coming here is…' Hiroki spluttered.

'Illegal trespassing', said Akihiko, hard-pressed not to smile. With Hiroki as embarrassed and pissed as he was now, though, he knew he'd regret grinning. Hiroki was shaking in anger and confusion; the blood had receded from his face, leaving it its natural complexion, but there was a light flush crawling down his face as his expression turned thoughtful.

Hiroki was visibly pissed and didn't even realize.

_He doesn't know what illegal trespassing is and he's trying to figure it out._ Akihiko wanted to laugh, and it wasn't even funny. _I want to laugh because he's being so…_

'Akihiko-sama!'

Without stopping to think, Akihiko leapt at Hiroki, pinning him to the ground; as the other boy squirmed beneath him, Akihiko pressed a finger to his lips. _No way am I letting Tanaka see me here._ 'Shh, he'll find us.'

'He's looking for you', Hiroki whispered, as they lay in the grass and listened to Tanaka calling for Akihiko over and over. Akihiko shrugged distractedly, very conscious of how soft Hiroki felt. It was all he could do not to collapse on top of him and rub his forehead between the other boy's shoulders.

_So very…_

'Go. Isn't this your house?'

'Shh!' hissed Akihiko urgently. 'He's getting closer.' _I can't bear to look at you when we're this close. Don't draw his attention. Just let him go quickly. _He could feel Hiroki's short, heavy pants part waves in the grass beneath. He knew he must be crushing Hiroki, but the thought of being directly above his heart, pressed so close, was too appealing.

'Don't get so close!' Hiroki's whisper was furious.

And just like that, Akihiko's resolve broke. He gazed at Hiroki's face with wild abandon, the relief washing over him so powerfully that he felt light-headed. Hiroki seemed to be beckoning him, skin warm and so easily flushed and eyes like whirlpools. It was unfair, he thought irately. _If he has to destroy my self-control like this, he should at least know what he's doing. But it's completely unconscious. Without even trying,_ _h__is eyes, his lips, his entire being…is…so…_

_Cute._

The word practically threw itself at Akihiko. He blinked. _All those words in my head, and I come up with cute…?_ But it was true. As he forced his eyes away, heart pounding madly, he was sure he'd never seen anything or anyone cuter. And as he rolled off Hiroki with a sigh, for an instant he could have sworn there had been another frantic heartbeat mixed right in with his own.

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'It's about time for me to go', said Hiroki at last. The sun was just beginning to set over a cloudless sky. _No tunnel of fire tonight._ 'I'll get yelled at if I'm not home soon.'

He got to his feet and brushed himself off, though a few dry scraps of grass still clung to his pants. _Cute,_ thought Akihiko again, and looked away quickly. 'Say, Akihiko, I think you should be getting home too now.'

'I don't want to go home', replied Akihiko nonchalantly, staring at the words he'd written. _But I won't be able to stay out much longer. It'll be too dark to write._ He sighed.

'Then', Hiroki's voice floated to him cautiously, 'would you like to come to my place instead?'

Akihiko looked up, feeling his eyes widen. The boy in front of looked like he'd had a brief but vicious struggle with himself to extend the invitation.

'Really?' _If you're saying it just because you feel like you have to, I'm fine here._

'Yeah', said Hiroki impatiently. 'Why else would I be offering? You don't want to go home, but it's getting too dark. Come to my house.'

There were two blossoms of pink flowering on his cheekbones as he said those words. Akihiko found himself fascinated by them…and caught the new desire just in time. _I want to taste those flowers, too. They bloom so easily and prettily in that earth._

'Okay', he said. His spiral notebook was shut. 'Thank you.'

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'Ah, a friend, Hiro-chan?' Hiroki's mother was tall and willowy and pretty in her pale green kimono. Akihiko decided he liked her right away. Her eyes beamed rays of welcome at him, and he shut his eyes briefly, basking unabashedly in the warmth. _I've seen other mothers before, but this one seems the most different from my own._

'This is Usami Akihiko', said Hiroki. 'Can he stay here tonight?'

'Of course!' said his mother, never losing her smile, though a question had crept into her tone. 'But have you told his parents?'

_So this is what responsible parents are like,_ Akihiko thought idly, before reprimanding himself. _Of course mum and dad would be worried if I just didn't come back one night._ Somehow, though, it was hard to imagine. _That house is so enormous…I doubt they'd even realize. Maybe Tanaka would. _He had a brief moment of epiphany as he realized that Tanaka was much more of a parent to him than his real ones. _Sad thing is, I'm not sure I mind._

'I haven't told them yet', he said as politely as he could. 'May I please use your phone?'

'Eh, just call them for us, will you?' said Hiroki to his mother, turning away. 'Akihiko, come with me!'

'But the phone…' and he didn't want to leave a bad impression on this woman, whom he already liked and who was frowning at her son. Her expression said _honestly, that boy._

'It's fine!' said Hiroki, impatient now. 'Call us when dinner's ready, okay, mom? Akihiko, come on! I have to show you something!'

_Hiroki has a one-track mind._ Like when he read. Or decided to do something. Akihiko sighed, looked an apology at Hiroki's mother, and set off after his friend. Hiroki was practically apoplectic with excitement now. That face which reddened so naturally was on the verge of flushing again. It really was cute.

Hiroki's room was wallpapered with books_. Feels nice to be surrounded by books._ Not that Akihiko's room didn't have any, but the entire house gave him a distinctly ominous feeling.

'Look at this book! It's really cool! You should read it!'

_Attack of the Bear-Shaped Aliens?_ Akihiko picked up and turned the pages thoughtfully. 'You know', he said at length, 'stories like these always make me wonder…wouldn't it be easier for aliens to manipulate humans into doing all the dirty work? I mean…just destroying everything sounds rather troublesome…'

'You're freaking me out!' Hiroki growled, voice more gravelly than usual. 'You're saying there could be some among us right now! _Bleh!_...anyway, forget that book, then. Read this.' He handed him another one.

The cover, drawn in glowy blue and frilly pink, was rather twee, but… 'The Prince of Bear Planet and the Princess of Underworld', Akihiko read out loud. 'Fine. I'll try it.' He turned the cover back, but right before sinking into the world of words—one that he was used to creating himself by now—he closed his eyes against Hiroki's satisfied gaze, felt his glad smile.

_Hot and soothing. No matter what his expression is, his eyes always make me feel the same._

_And then again, at the same time they throw me into a mix of emotions I don't think I should be dealing with at this age._

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Akihiko lowered his head until he felt his forehead touch the paper of the book he was reading.

_I'm tired…_

He'd been given Hiroki's pajamas to wear; they fit him perfectly, as well as if they'd been made for him. It was been all he could do not to start smelling them right there in the bathroom. Somehow, he'd made it past the 'good night's and 'thank you's and was now here, back in Hiroki's room…reading.

_I'll never be able to finish this book at this rate._

After listening carefully for the sound of approaching footsteps, Akihiko gingerly lifted an arm to his face and buried his nose in the sleeve. He inhaled deeply.

_Oh God._

Hiroki smelled like…like…

_Hiroki._

His smell, like his taste, was undefinable. _It's just Hiroki. It smells like Hiroki. _It smelled clean and fresh and pure and made him want to cry. _If I smell this one more time, I think I might die. How am I supposed to spend a night surrounded by it…?_

The sound of the door sliding back made him twist around hastily; Hiroki had come in, face perturbed. _Did his mother yell at him? Doesn't seem likely; I can't see her yelling at anyone._

'Sorry', Akihiko said quietly, as Hiroki flopped down on the mattress next to him. _What am I apologizing for? _'Looks like I've caused your family trouble.'

'Hey, I'm the one who brought you here', muttered Hiroki, voice rough. 'What are _you_ apologizing for?' His expression turned strained as he added in a bit of a rush, 'Anyway, if you ever feel bothered by something—t-tell me about it, okay?'

_Eh?_ Akihiko looked up, confused. 'What's this, all of a sudden?' _Can you tell I'm bothered? Can you tell that it's your fault?_

'Well', began Hiroki. He seemed to be pushing the words out, so they tumbled against each other reluctantly. 'Well…you always look a bit spaced out no matter what's going on. I heard that people like that can get stressed out easily—well—well anyway, you know I'm always on your side, right?' He was completely, enchantingly pink by now. 'I'll always be your friend! Don't forget that!'

Hiroki's blush was painting translucent patterns on his face, embarrassment descending like snowflakes.

Akihiko allowed himself to look for one second more. _Only one. Because any more than that, and I…_ 'Okay', he said softly, returning to the book. A smile danced on his face, and he let it.

'W-Well, anyway…oyasumi!' _Swoosh._ Hiroki had pulled the comforter all the way up to his hairline, Akihiko saw out of the corner of his eye. The shaggy brown locks still peeped tantalizingly from under the cover, and _no, I cannot reach out and touch them. _Akihiko glared fixedly at the book. _I have to, have to stop thinking about this._

_Just for a while._

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_It's been a while now,_ a voice in his head said hopefully.

Akihiko looked up at the clock. _It's almost midnight!_ He'd stayed up far too long reading the book, and they had school the next day. Blinking to release the tension from his rather tired eyes, he put the book aside and switched off the lamp. Darkness curtained the room, muddied into grey by moonlight. Akihiko yawned. He fluffed the pillow. Then he turned his attention to Hiroki.

_Ah…I can only give myself a minute here. Any more and I'll be up till sunrise._

If possible, it cheered him up a bit to see Hiroki's eyelids drawn over those enormous orbs. _For once, I don't have to be afraid that he'll suddenly look at me, look into me. I hate the feeling that he can look right into me. I love it too, but it doesn't let me look at _him_ in peace._

Speaking of peace, and peaceful…

The comforter had slipped off Hiroki's face as he'd turned in his sleep, and Akihiko leaned forward, feeling an intrigue he'd tried to sit on for a while now. It was a complete, utter, iniquitous mismatch, he thought ruefully. _How can one say that somebody whose cheeks flush so delicately in sleep is so crabby and short-tempered when awake?_

He absolutely _couldn't_ taste those flowers now. _Not now, at least not when he's sleeping. Just imagine if he wakes up and catches you doing it! If you have to—taste him again or whatever—do it when he's awake, at least that way you have nothing to hide._

He chuckled softly at the alternative to putting his mouth on Hiroki's exposed and utterly irresistible face right that instant. The laughter faded, however, when he realized something…_no way in hell will I be able to SLEEP like this._

He deliberated for an instant. Hiroki was evidently fast asleep; there was no way he would ever look this relaxed (_and cute, _Akihiko thought involuntarily) if not.

There was only one thing to be done for it. _Kissing is one thing, but at least he might assume that I did _this_ in my sleep. _Without giving his mind any more time to debate, he wiggled onto Hiroki's mattress and slung an arm over the other boy's chest, resting his head in the crook of Hiroki's neck.

Tentatively, holding his breath, he moved his bare lower arm across the fabric of Hiroki's sleeve. Felt the little balls of fabric that bunched up on old cloth. Fought the urge to rub his nose along with his arm as well. Gave in to the maddening desire to deeply take in Hiroki's essence.

_I didn't die this time, but one more time will definitely do it._

_Kind of plausible for someone to do this in their sleep, right…?_

He didn't care either way.

Hiroki was warm and smelled like his pajamas, and Akihiko was too deeply asleep, in spite of his thumping heart, to hear Hiroki's squawk as he jerked awake.

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**A/N: Just to clarify, this is not going to be an AU fic, because no matter how you look at it, Akihiko isn't quite in love with Hiroki here. Though Hiroki can't quite take the credit for certifying Akihiko as gay, thanks to the neighbor in England (whom I named Edward because, I don't know, I was feeling particularly spiteful towards twilight or something…), this is supposed to show that Hiroki was probably the first person to stir any sort of feelings at all in Akihiko. Just saying. :P not quite sure if I can be understood, but what the hey.**


	4. Sleeping and Waking

_Sleeping and Waking_

**A/N: I'm taking a bit of a liberty here. While it's kinda weird to think that a family as high and mighty as the Usamis would allow two children in one bed, the thought of Hiroki and Akihiko sleeping in separate rooms (or even separate beds, considering that said beds are freakin' huge) is even weirder. So for the purposes of this fic they sleep together. Poor Hiroki, heh.**

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Their tunnel of blue and green and white was just green and gray the next day, and…

Hiroki's flute was driving Akihiko crazy.

Or rather, not so much the flute as the person blowing it. _I can't write with this 'po-po' flying around in the air,_ Akihiko thought childishly, stowing his notebook. _I give up. It's not like I can tell him to stop, either, because…_

'_Kamijou-kun, okinasai!'_

_Because he was fast asleep in class. I don't think he slept very well last night._ Akihiko sighed. Because of him, him and his irresistible urges and crazy ideas. Lazily, he allowed himself to sink a little into the invitingly soft bushes behind him and watched Hiroki fret over the flute.

A frown folded itself between Hiroki's eyebrows as he glared at the offending instrument. His fingers, small and slender and pale, wiggled over and across the holes like fireflies. His lips—

_He looks like he's kissing that thing._

Hiroki's pursed lips touched the flute softly, delicately. Akihiko found himself unbelievably captured by the swell of his cheek as he blew, eyes blazing in concentration, fingers flying over the sleek wood, brow furrowed. _If I'd watched him from the start, I wouldn't have minded the horrible sound._

_In any case, I'm not getting any writing done today._

'I can't get this at all', said Hiroki finally, and Akihiko immediately regretted wanting him to stop. 'I need to learn how to play it, though, or else Sensei's just going to scold me again.'

'You're playing an octave higher than you should', offered Akihiko by way of help. _Not that I want you to stop, now that I've realized I can just watch you._

'I know _that_', said Hiroki peevishly; his eyes hadn't left the flute. _The brown of the flute is just a shade darker than his eyes…but it looks so different when I know he's looking at me from behind that color._

'My fingers don't reach all the holes.' Hiroki's nostrils flared briefly, and a strip of even deeper pink was revealed as he stuck out his lower lip in a pout. It was an _I-dare-you-to-make-fun-of-that_ stance. One that Akihiko knew too well by now.

He had other plans, though, as he gazed at Hiroki's bottom lip. The weak sunlight from behind the silver clouds was caught in the saliva coating his friend's lips like a beacon. It was glistening feebly off the intimate skin that came right after the lip, glimmering, sparkling. Enticing.

Hiroki really had been blowing hard.

_And just like that, looking isn't enough right now. Right now, I need to touch him._

'Impossible', he said in response to Hiroki's remark. 'Let me borrow your hand.' He reached out and took one of Hiroki's hands, limp and ridiculously warm in his own palm.

_Just a couple of inches. All I need to do is lift it a couple of inches, and I can press it to my mouth. I can taste him again._ In order to divert himself from this particularly disruptive train of thought, he lined their hands together, palms facing inward. His hand dwarfed Hiroki's, the other boy's fingertips ending at Akihiko's third knuckles. Hiroki's tepid warmth and his contrasting coolness brought a sudden blush to his cheeks.

He pulled his hand away as though burned.

'Yeah, you're right. Your hand's smaller than mine. Hey, lend me your flute.' Hastily, he twisted the flute away from an unsuspecting and rather flustered Hiroki, and raised it to his own mouth. If he saw Hiroki twitch and glare, he did not react. _I know it's an indirect kiss, if that's what you're thinking. That's the reason I'm even doing this._

He played a little bit of 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star', a nursery rhyme he'd learnt in England. There was a very faint taste of Hiroki still fresh on the mouthpiece; greedily yet covertly, he savored every ounce until it was completely eclipsed by his own. He pulled the flute away rather reluctantly.

'I think the bigger problem is that you're blowing too hard', he commented idly. Hiroki had turned away from him, determinedly facing the sky. _These things embarrass him, I saw that a long time ago. But it's not like I can control every urge that bubbles within me, not when I don't even know what they are. All I can do is hope he gets used to it. Or puts it down to my personality. Or something._

Hiroki's eyes were a study in shyness as they probed the clouds that veiled the sky in myriad shades of grey. If he'd heard Akihiko's remark, he showed no sign of it; slowly yet surely, Akihiko watched the blush evaporate from his cheeks. _I think I could spend all my life just watching him blush and unblush._

_He's looking at the sky so keenly…it makes me wonder what he'd do if raindrops fell right into his eyes._

_Plink._

Akihiko felt a pinprick of coldness on the back of his wrist. _Plink, plink, plink._ 'Oh', he said wonderingly. 'It's raining.'

'We'd better get out of here, then', said Hiroki, breaking his self-imposed silence. 'Woah! It's a deluge!' The drizzle had rapidly evolved into an outright downpour, and the two of them scrambled to their feet in the now slippery grass and made a break for the trees. Their book bags provided little shielding against what was threatening to become a full-blown storm.

'Let's go to my house!' said Akihiko frantically, as loudly as he could over the squelching of their shoes and the pounding of the rain against the leaves. _Looks like Tanaka's going to get his wish._

They splashed their way to Akihiko's front door to find Tanaka already there—_doesn't miss a thing, this man—_with a towel. 'Tanaka-san, can we get another towel? I have a guest', muttered Akihiko as he stepped in, shaking the water out of his shoes.

Tanaka was looking inquiringly at Hiroki, who'd followed Akihiko in without invitation and was looking at the hall wide eyes even wider than usual. Akihiko, for the first time, felt glad that he lived in such a big house. _Hiroki will like it here. Guess Tanaka was right._ 'This is Kamijou-kun from across the street', he said in response to Tanaka's unspoken question.

The butler's face lit up immediately. 'Ah, Kamijou-sama? I have heard a lot about you from Akihiko-sama here!' Instantly, a second towel was produced. Hiroki gingerly took it between his fingers and raised it to his head. 'Yeah, hi', he mumbled.

'Welcome to our house', smiled Tanaka, bowing. 'I shall bring you something warm to drink.'

'Come, I'll show you my room', said Akihiko, heading for the stairs. Hiroki padded after him, whispering urgently. 'Hey, you told him about me?'

'Yeah, maybe', he said vaguely, pausing to towel his hair so Hiroki wouldn't see the color on his face.

'Who is that man, anyway?'

'Butler.' Akihiko reached the top of the stairs. 'My room's this way, come on.'

He allowed his eyes to rest on Hiroki every step of the way to his room. Hiroki was a mix of wary and wowed; his eyes took in the high ceiling and plush red carpet that Akihiko despised so passionately with guarded enthusiasm. _I can tell what he's thinking. He's thinking, why would I not want to come back here?_

As Akihiko pushed open the well-oiled door to his room, Hiroki's jaw dropped. 'Wow!' he rushed to the bookshelf that spanned an entire wall in Akihiko's room, practically swooning with ecstasy. 'There are so many _books!_ Way more than at my house! Say', he added, his voice dropping in the familiar catch that it snagged on when its owner was feeling shy. 'Can I borrow some when I go home?'

'Help yourself', said Akihiko mildly, unable to take his eyes off the solitary damp lock that was clinging to the side of Hiroki's smooth, cold-whitened neck. Hiroki let out a very un-Hiroki squeal of delight and twirled around. 'This is _awesome! _And oh my God, this is the first time I'm seeing a bed with a _roof!'_ He practically scurried over to Akihiko's four-poster bed and set his hands on hit, palms facing downwards, leaning into the soft covers. 'How do you clean the top, I wonder?'

Akihiko was too entranced by the dip of Hiroki's neck—and that one rain-kissed lock of hair—to listen; he was jolted awake only by the knocking at the door.

It was Tanaka. 'Akihiko-sama, your mother is calling you.'

_Oh_

Akihiko slumped. _I wonder what it is…she doesn't usually call. _Was he going to be yelled at for staying at Hiroki's? It sounded unlikely; they'd visited the Kamijou home themselves, after all.

'Sorry', he said to Hiroki's puzzled face. 'I'll be right back.'

Tanaka shut the door for him, which was a relief.

_I don't want to see Hiroki looking at me with those eyes now._ The world where he spoke to his parents and the world where he let himself sink deep into Hiroki were two separate entities. _I can't have them clashing. Hiroki is something new, and though I don't know yet if I like this or not…I don't want the universe with him in it to collide with all of this._

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'Akihiko-sama?'

The concern on Tanaka's face was almost funny as Akihiko exited his mother's room. The last sliver of vision that met him before the door closed was the fireplace, alive and crackling. 'It's nothing, Tanaka-san. She just wanted to talk.' He managed a bit of a smile.

It really had been just talking, he supposed. _You're way too quiet for a child of your age _this and _it's all right, baby, we'll spend more time together _that. 'I'm fine. Really.' He gave Tanaka a pointed look, and the butler didn't press the subject.

'…well then, Akihiko-sama, your friend must be hungry. What would the two of you like to eat? We have cake and Japanese snack as of present.'

'Umm, I don't know', said Akihiko, shrugging. 'Let me see. I'll ask him.' He found a real smile forming on his face as he thought, _I'm going to see him eat again._ Hiroki eating was a feast for the eyes. The frown that never seemed to unfold, even stronger as he chewed…the precise, measured actions of his hands…_Hiroki seems to do everything with the same intensity. It's amazing to watch._

'Hey, Hiroki', he pushed the door open, 'would you like cake or Japanese snacks—? HEY!'

Hiroki was leaning over his desk, _reading his notebook._

'Hey, give that back! Who said you could read that!'

An emotion flashed in Hiroki's eyes, that was neither anger nor embarrassment, as Akihiko ran over to him and tried to grab the notebook out of his hands. 'I'm sorry!' he said quickly, but still held on to the book. 'This—this story's somewhere in the middle, right? Let me read it from the beginning!'

'Hiroki!' Akihiko almost yelled, face flaming. _What am I getting so worked up for?_ The thought burned up in the blaze of his own embarrassment, though, as Hiroki yelled back, 'But this is really interesting!'

_What?_

His face was growing warmer as he stared at Hiroki; there was a very pregnant pause.

Finally, Akihiko spoke. His voice sounded strained even to himself. 'You don't have to say that to make me feel better, you know.'

'_What?_' the petulance was back in Hiroki's face. 'I've read two-thirds of our school library! I know what a good story is! Don't you think it's insulting to say I'm just telling you something to cheer you up? If I say it's interesting, it is!'

_He's cute even like this, _Akihiko thought miserably. Hiroki was having his last word, completely oblivious to Akihiko's plight. 'Now give the rest of that story, I wanna see—'

'Oh.'

He'd finally seen Akihiko's face. Akihiko lowered his eyes. _I can't even look at him. This is so…embarrassing. No wonder Hiroki gets angry when I embarrass him._

The chuckle that rose within him died before it could reach the surface. _He must feel awkward too, seeing me like this. I'm sure this is the first time he's seen me blush._

'I wasn't flattering you', said Hiroki presently, voice small. 'I only tell the truth about things like…' he trailed off and lowered his head, and the blush which Akihiko knew and loved so well was dripping down his face again.

That little sight brought Akihiko back to his normal self-possessed state of mind. _This is more normal._

_It's still unbearably weird that he read my stuff, but when I see him blushing like this, I…_

'Okay, then.'

Hiroki's head jerked up. 'Huh?'

'Okay, I'll let you read the rest', said Akihiko, feeling calmer by the minute. 'Only you, though.' _If I can get you to turn pink so prettily, _his mind added.

'Thanks.' There was considerable relief mingling with the gratitude etched on Hiroki's features, and his eyes glowed. 'I'd love to read the rest.'

Then, a second later, 'And I'll have the cake, if you don't mind.'

The lock had dried against the side of Hiroki's neck, and Akihiko had a fleeting, but powerful vision of Hiroki's chestnut strands, dampened with sweat. _Sweat?_

_And my fingers threading through his sweaty hair._

Akihiko was horrified at the image forming in his mind, an image that he hardly even understood. 'Fine, cake then. I'll go get Tanaka.'

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Around eleven-thirty at night, Hiroki spoke. 'Hey, Akihiko?'

'Hmm?' Akihiko murmured. _He's still awake? I was hoping he'd had nodded off by now, because I can't sleep like this. _There was no way he was sleeping when Hiroki was in his bed. Though it was too dark to see, just the other boy's heartbeat felt like tremors that shook him to the very foundations. _I can't remember the last time anything stirred me up so much._

_Nothing _has _ever stirred me up so much. _The realization blew little sandstorms in his mind. It got into his eyes and made them water. It made him want to cry.

_Unless I can hold him again—touch him again—I won't be able to sleep._

'Are you awake, Akihiko?'

'No', mumbled Akihiko impishly. 'I'm talking to you in my sleep.'

'Jeez, just reply like a normal person for once', came the irate reply. 'Well, I was just going to say…I really do like your story. What I read of it, anyway.'

The last bit added credibility to his remark and, just like that, dispelled any lingering doubts Akihiko had harboured about promising Hiroki to let him read his work. 'Thank you', he said quietly.

He was lying on his back, facing the ceiling, because turning towards Hiroki was no good—_I can feel his breath on my face, which is just torture._ He couldn't face away from him either for similar reasons—_if I can't feel his breath anywhere, that's also torture._

_This world is hell._

'Hey, Hiroki?' he asked suddenly.

'Yeah?' Hiroki's voice, sure enough, was snappy and alert. _He doesn't sound drowsy at all._

'How come you're not asleep yet?'

'I don't know', said Hiroki's voice, deeper and growlier. _I don't have to see him to know if he's embarrassed by now. Why would something like this embarrass him—?_

_Oh._

'I'm sorry for clinging to you last night.'

Hiroki yelped and Akihiko could tell from the rustling of the sheets that he'd flipped onto his back, too. _He was facing my side before._

'It's got nothing to do with that!'

'Maybe', said Akihiko, 'but I don't think you slept well. I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was doing it. I didn't mean to.' That wasn't a complete lie either, as excuses went. _Hiroki possesses me. Just how am I supposed to see all these impulses coming? How can I tell myself to stop when I don't know…_

'It's—it's fine', Hiroki ground out. 'I couldn't feel anything, I was asleep. Anyway, oyasumi.'

'Oyasumi', said Akihiko, as softly as he could.

'H-Hey', said Hiroki after a pause. 'My swim meet is tomorrow. I mean—you said you wanted to come—so—' he stopped abruptly; another balloon of embarrassment welled up between them, then popped.

_I don't think I'll ever know if I like this feeling or not. It's too intense to let me decide._

'I'll come', said Akihiko simply. _Even if it kills me to see, I have to. _'Oyasumi, Hiroki.'

He lay awake for an hour more as Hiroki's staccato breaths gradually evened out into deep, easy sighs. Then he slid an arm under Hiroki's neck. Draped another one over his chest. Clasped his two hands together by the fingers. Brought his forehead forward until it touched Hiroki's shoulder. Took a deep, greedy breath.

He could smell Hiroki and himself.

_He's wearing my pajamas this time._

_I'll come._ His second promise of the evening came back to him with new clarity.

_Those words mean everything and yet nothing, if he has no idea what it does to me when I look at him. Tomorrow I'll see more of his skin than I ever have. The thought is…scary._

_I don't know what I'm thinking one bit._

The mingling smells of his own clothes and Hiroki's warm body proved too relaxing for his weary mind; again, he slept so soundly that when Hiroki woke with a start, he was still wrapped around his best and only friend, and first impulse.

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**A/N: Once again, a thank you to all my (well, both my) reviewers, particularly Cerberus :D I must say I enjoy reading your review more than my actual story. Thank you so much!**


	5. Not That Kind of Hunger

_Not That Kind of Hunger_

**A/N: After this chap we cut to around two years later, because sitting on their early childhood isn't doing much for the plot except spawning long, delicious descriptions of Hiroki :P so far most of what I've written has already been mentioned in the manga, but the next chapter is purely a product of my own imagination. I'm going to enjoy filling this gap in. :D**

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'Akihiko.'

Akihiko was cocooned in deep darkness, tumbling and bouncing off the innumerable nothings of his subconscious. And something was pulling him out. Something beautiful.

'Akihiko', said the voice again, more urgently.

_It's so warm and soft here. Why would I ever want to leave? I'm not leaving, you can't make me._ In the conscious world, he rumbled and wedged himself tighter into the 'warm cocoon' that was a very uncomfortable Hiroki.

'Akihiko, get the hell _up!_'

He could feel his shoulder being shaken roughly; his dark envelope already in tatters, he gave a muffled 'hmph' and clenched his eyelids together. _Just a minute more._

'_Akihiko! Okinasai yo!'_

'Huh?' Eyelids snapped open in alarm; his world pieced together, pixel by pixel, until his sleep-weighted eyes finally registered the body he was clinging to. _Damn it._

'Wake up, please', pleaded Hiroki. 'I can't breathe, and Tanaka-san will soon be here to wake us up or get breakfast or something.'

_If Tanaka sees me like this, I wonder what he'll say. 'Akihiko-sama, I thought you made a new friend, not a new stuffed animal.'_ He emitted a drowsy, amused rumble and extricated himself from the tangle that he'd become in the course of the night. _When did I shove my knee between Hiroki's legs like that?_

'Sorry', said Akihiko, still too out of it to muster any real regret or shyness. 'Like I said, I really don't know when I do that. I try not to.' The lie—_well, it's not really a lie, I'd try not to if I had any power over this feeling—_slipped out smoothly, and Hiroki grunted in embarrassed forgiveness. 'Whatever. I didn't know until I woke up.'

Akihiko rolled onto his back and stared determinedly at the deep green roof of his bed. 'Hey—today's your swim meet, right?'

'Yeah', said Hiroki, following suit. 'Thank God it's a Saturday. If I had to swim after classes I don't know what I'd do.'

_If you can't swim today because you didn't sleep well it's my fault,_ Akihiko realized with a sickening swoop in his belly. 'Well—get your rest, then. We can sleep in today anyway.' _Correction. You can. If I do I won't let you sleep._

'Nah, I'm good', mumbled Hiroki, and Akihiko heard the most beautiful _swish_ of his nightclothes as Hiroki raised his arms above his head to stretch. Akihiko turned just his head to the side and felt his eyes widen.

_Thank the gods I got a second chance to see this._

The previous day, after evidently having woken up in Akihiko's arms, Hiroki seemed to have extracted himself and gone to the bathroom. Akihiko had opened his eyes to the other boy's irate and rather bewildered face asking him to get the hell off his mattress. Now, he heartily regretted not having woken sooner that morning. _This is the show of a lifetime._

The elbow-length sleeves of Akihiko's pajama top fell back to reveal the tender underside of Hiroki's upper arms. His narrow back arched in the most exquisite curve and a deep, almost cat-like purr seemed to emanate from the depths of his belly.

Akihiko found himself swept up by an incredible urge to put his ear on Hiroki's stomach and listen to that purr more closely.

His head was thrown back, eyes clenched shut, and Akihiko could see his Adam's apple swell and rise above the rest of his throat like a drop of cream begging to be tasted.

'Hey', he began, then had to stop and clear his throat. 'I gotta go brush my teeth.'

'Oh, crap', muttered Hiroki. 'I gotta brush too, which means I'd better be getting home soon. Mom will want to know about your house anyway, I suppose.' A grimace flickered on his face. 'But before you forget—you have to give me the rest of that story.'

The corners of his mouth twitched. 'I wasn't kidding about wanting to read it, you know.'

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'Wow', breathed Hiroki, lifting first one hand and then the other, as though unable to believe the existence of the heavy bags dangling from them. 'This is one really long story!'

'Yeah', said Akihiko, feeling discomfort threaten again. 'Hey, Hiroki, listen—you can't show them to anyone else, okay?'

The honeyed arcs of Hiroki's eyebrows registered genuine surprise. 'Eh? Why not? You write so well—'

'No!' there was undisguised vehemence in Akihiko's negation. 'You can't. I'm only showing these to you—because it's you!'

_Am I blushing again?_

'This is our secret', he said after a pause. 'Promise me you won't show it to anyone else.'

_A secret I share with Hiroki. I guess I can finally admit it now. The thought that I have some sort of hold over him feels really, really good._

Hiroki gave him a long look that was still filled with an emotion that Akihiko couldn't decipher. _It makes me squirm, though. He can look right into me. He really can._

_Hiroki, for your own sake, please don't see what I need to do to you._

'Promise', said Hiroki.

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The pool was huge, and so was the crowd. Hiroki should have been dwarfed by both the surroundings and most of his competitors, but when he bent gracefully over the pool, preparing to dive, his body was so completely floodlit by the afternoon sun that Akihiko could see nothing and nobody else.

Hiroki's bare skin looked every bit as edible as Akihiko had thought. What his mind had neglected to add, however, was the slight finishing touch that came as a result of having done this for years: the crisp golden tan on his back and chest, accentuating the soft hair sprouting through the pre-pubescent flesh.

The young writer's hand reached through the air and tried to grasp at a person who was hundreds of yards away.

As Akihiko sat in the stands and watched the slender body dart through the water towards the finish line, only one thought slammed into his mind, over and over until he thought he might die from the enormity of it.

_I'm hungry._

Hiroki's long, white legs moved among the blue like a dream. His narrow child's chest heaved when he came up for air, and his water-darkened hair fanned out on the surface when he went under. And most captivating of all, his arms—his arms cut into the water with such effortless grace as to render Akihiko's already befuddled mind distinctly dizzy.

_I'm hungry._

…_for what?_

Akihiko tore his eyes away from Hiroki's lithe acrobatics and directed his gaze towards his knees. _It's ridiculous to think that I want to eat him. And tasting doesn't count as satisfying hunger, right?_

_On the other hand, it's no secret in my head that I want to taste him again. _Akihiko burned for his tongue to reconnect with the heaven that was Hiroki's skin. And not just his skin, either. His lips. His tongue. His petal-pink fingernails. _ I want to taste everything._

_But…_a frown burrowed between his eyebrows as his shoulders slumped. _That's not what this hunger is. I've always wanted to taste him, ever since I saw him crying that evening, painted in fire by the sunset._

_This is completely new._

Hiroki's bare body was evoking an entirely different sort of hunger in Akihiko's tainted, but stubbornly innocent mind.

'_First place…Kamijou Hiroki.'_

The announcement boomed through the stands and Akihiko looked up frantically to see Hiroki climbing out of the pool, looking exhausted but jubilant.

He could hardly feel his hands clapping, though; he was bent on solving this little predicament before he met the owner of the body that was causing him so much trouble. _What do I want to do with Hiroki?_

_That's right._ As he tried to look away from the other boy, who was now receiving his medal on the victor's stand, he realized something. _So far, all I've done is force myself not to think about it. This is the first time I can watch him from a distance where I can't just do the first thing that pops into my head. So…it might be safe to finally let go…_

…_right?_

The _need_ to let go, even if it was only for a while, was so overwhelming that Akihiko was doing just that before he could even wrap up his train of thought. So what did he want to do?

The first answer that his heated brain churned out was not visual.

_I want to consume him._

_That didn't help,_ Akihiko thought techily. _Consuming is like eating. I'm back to square one._

_Not like that. Consume him completely. Break down that proud, blustering façade of his. Reduce him to a mess._

Akihiko frowned at his kneecaps. _A mess?_

He knew he was getting there, though. The thought of Hiroki as a mess was truly delicious—with the bed hair he'd seen today, he had no difficulty picturing Hiroki with his hair disheveled, uniform half-put on. _Shoes off. And…those wide eyes almost shut. His shirt open._

_His hair should be damp with sweat._

Akihiko let out a gasp that was lost in the crowd.

_That thing I saw yesterday—was this?_

Eagerly, if apprehensively, he allowed the voice of the urge to speak more.

_Push him down and have his way with him. Weave my fingers into his hair, his hands, his mouth. Feel every inch of him tremble and gasp and_

_Stop, _Akihiko groaned.

And now Hiroki was making his way towards him, mercifully clothed again, brandishing the enormous gold medal slung around his neck. 'Hah! You see!' he said triumphantly, the moment he was within earshot. His voice rang out and into Akihiko's ears like birdsong.

'I told you I could handle it!' he crowed, grinning madly. 'I'm not going to spontaneously combust from stress after all!'

Akihiko tried to smile and managed a small, trembly one. 'No matter what your motivation', he said, marveling at the calm in his voice, 'you did well.' And, for no good reason, 'I'm proud of you.'

_I'm starving._

His hand had risen and lodged itself in Hiroki's hair before he had time to process the action. He ruffled the damp silk from the roots up, savoring the feel of Hiroki's scalp against his fingertips. _It's getting warmer, _he thought, amused in spite of his terror at the beast that he'd discovered in himself. _His head's getting warmer._

He pulled away only when he realized why. Hiroki was beet red.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_How do I even know all this?_

_I don't need to answer that, even to myself,_ Akihiko thought firmly. _What Edward did wasn't something I can easily forget. Or ever forget._

But it had taught him something that wasn't necessarily bad. _If I can't control myself, though, it will be. Hiroki doesn't know about any of this. Not that he needs to, now._

_The strange thing is that he isn't even a girl._

Akihiko chuckled into his pillow. _Edward didn't need me to be a girl, either. And it's not like Hiroki'd have been any less…appealing…as a girl…_

_But maybe we wouldn't have slept together. And I wouldn't be living with the memory of his smell, at least. One less thing that would have tortured me._

_Do I really want this feeling to go, though? I can't say I like it, but I don't really dislike it either…and I can't imagine looking at Hiroki _without_ having to fight these urges._

_I can't imagine looking at Kamijou Hiroki without wanting to push him down and have my way with him._

That was his hunger, in one simple sentence.

_I'm hungry for Hiroki. For all of Hiroki._

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**A/N: Teen Akihiko coming up next :D stay tuned! *knows this chapter has been a bit of a drag* Cerberus, after leaving one long awesome-as-hell review, seems to have bailed, so hopefully the next chapter should pick up the pace in an attempt to get my idol-sama back. Thank you to everyone for favouriting and alerting this story! :D :D A review or two from time to time would be nice, though. :S**


	6. Crashing and Burning

_Crashing and Burning_

**A/N: *is a bit nervous about this chapter* I really have no idea what goes on in the heads of adolescent boys. I think my approximation should be okay, though. I read somewhere (and saw with my own eyes) that boys hit puberty later than girls, so I hope this is fine. Just drop me a line *cough-review-cough* and tell me if I'm off. :D**

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Usami Akihiko's fourteenth spring flowered with an expected, but nonetheless tiresome problem blossoming in its whorl of passion-red petals.

_This thing won't go down._

For the first time in his life, he woke up to something tight and rather painful tenting his sheets...or rather, the first time he was unable to will this tightness away.

_I know exactly what this means, _he thought as he surveyed the offending organ with mild interest and growing dismay, _but that won't make it any easier to take care of. _As things stood, though, he knew there was only one thing that would 'take care of' his problem before Tanaka turned up. He sighed and stuck a hand down the front of his pants.

The pleasure buildup, to his astonishment, was minimal; it wasn't long before he was expelling his essence into his hand, staining a considerable part of his pajama pants as well. Releasing a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, he raised a sticky finger to his eyes and looked at it closely.

_So this is it? _He turned his eyes to the window and regarded the cherry blossoms hanging off the trees with a growing sense of disillusionment. _This stuff is supposed to contain millions of babies?_

He knew his oversimplified explanation was rather off the mark; at that moment, though, he was too busy trying to connect the white substance covering most of his hand with the _power_ of a man to care.

_So I'm a man now, or something?_

Gingerly, he brought his pinky finger to his mouth and sucked. _Goddamn it, it's bitter._

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It was with more trepidation than usual that he made his way to his and Hiroki's secret place. _I'm a man now. I guess. I'll be meeting him as a man for the first time._

To his surprise, he found himself unbelievably thankful that Hiroki hadn't arrived yet.

Hiroki had joined a different high school than his a few months ago; their 'base' was now the only place where they knew they would meet each other every day. In the summer heat wave that they would soon be cresting, Akihiko's cloud-wrapped mind was increasingly drawn to thoughts of meeting Hiroki. _Without his sarcasm and ready wit, classes can be dead boring. _This realization had not taken long to foist itself upon him.

Hiroki reading his stories had rapidly evolved into something like a writer-editor relationship, one where Hiroki would unhesitatingly point out what he felt was lacking and Akihiko would buckle up and make the changes. _Not like I'm ever going to publish these or anything, _he reminded himself with a feeling akin to wistfulness.

_But in a way, him making changes to what used to be a very personal part of my life…it feels like he's the one who has a claim over me._ And somehow, that felt good, too. But what he'd done that morning kept flapping around his head like a mosquito he was unable to swat away. _What does meeting Hiroki have to do with that? _Akihiko inhaled deeply, trying to absorb the innate peace of the clearing in his fevered thoughts.

_I can't meet Hiroki before I sort myself out…but how?_

And the fact that Hiroki himself was growing up every bit the right way only intensified his apprehension rather painfully, until he was all but begging himself to grow back down._ Has it happened to him yet, I wonder?_

The green tunnel rustled behind him, breathing promises; he stiffened in anticipation, turbulent thoughts blown clear away as though by the breath of the parting bushes.

'Akihiko?' A growl that was even deeper in pitch rolled across the warm air and Akihiko smiled to himself.

'Hey', he muttered in reply, determined not to meet his friend's eyes just yet. 'I only just got here, too.'

As he extracted his pen and notebook and leaned against the stubborn roughness of his usual tree, Hiroki did something he never usually did; he came over and sat next to Akihiko, one shoulder against the tree trunk and the other supported by his school bag.

Akihiko looked up in surprise, really seeing him for the first time that day.

Hiroki's eyes burned brighter than ever. _And now that I've known him all this while, I've come to like the piercing discomfort that overtakes me whenever I'm under his gaze._ With his trademark frown in place, Hiroki tended to look, more often than not, like he knew everything in the world and that said privilege was causing him a great deal of annoyance. He was looking like that now.

He was also looking deeply troubled.

Akihiko set his notebook aside and turned to face Hiroki fully.

'Nothing', said Hiroki jerkily, replying to Akihiko's unasked question. 'I quit kendo today.'

_What?_

'Why now? Aren't the nationals just a month away?' _Why did you quit at all? _Hiroki's penchant for overachievement had only grown ridiculously stronger over the years, and a declaration like this was as unforeseen as it would have been when they'd first met.

'I know when the nationals are', muttered Hiroki, volume decreasing with every syllable. 'But there's a limit to how much I can take, and I'm at it now. I can't go on like this for one day more. I'll explode.'

His eyes were lowered, seemingly scrutinizing the grass beneath his shoes. _At the angle he's sitting, the sun's rays are slanting into his irises at the just the perfect angle so as to turn them completely golden. Nothing's ever looked so drinkable._

He frowned to himself. _I'm over that stage, aren't I?_ As though in reply, the image of his creamy, sticky come coating his fingers rippled through his mind's eye. He thought fast, and decided he needed to _stop_ thinking. _At least for the time being._

'Hiroki', he began, feeling the name roll off his tongue. _I can never get completely used to how easy it is to say his name._ The thought flew up like ash from a hearth and Akihiko was sidetracked by trying to bat it off.

He forgot what he had been about to say; instead, he settled for placing a hand on Hiroki's upper arm. As he knew would happen, he felt Hiroki stiffen at the contact, then relax. He'd grown accustomed to these quirks of his long ago, putting them down to the other boy's naturally distant demeanor.

At length, Hiroki spoke again. 'I don't have the same energy that I used to. To keep at everything I do until I get better, I mean. That's why I figured dropping all these extra things that I don't particularly care for will make my life easier.'

'Congratulations on finally figuring that out after three years', said Akihiko wryly, with no real vinegar in his intonation.

Hiroki gave a weary smile that went through Akihiko like physical pain.

'And honestly, even classes are no fun anymore.'

Akihiko looked at Hiroki sharply.

'It's stupid', said Hiroki, defensive now, 'but I guess after all these years, I got too used to sitting with you. I don't feel like sitting with anyone else now. It's really stupid. I just sit alone.'

After a seemingly interminable silence, Akihiko muttered, 'I sit alone, too.'

It was Hiroki's turn to look up with eyes even wider than usual. After a moment, the frown receded from his face and his head dropped back down; he looked the picture of unhappiness.

Just like that, Akihiko found himself wrestling with new urges, reeling with astonishment at himself.

_I thought I was done with lusting after Hiroki._

Piece by piece, the muddy picture in Akihiko's rapidly growing mind had finally completed itself; he knew now just what he had wanted to do that day at the swim meet. Over and over. _Until one of us collapses. Or both._

But for two whole years, he really had been 'done'. It had taken him around ten months to get his insane hunger for his best and only friend under control; two more months of vicious self-counseling every night and he'd convinced himself it had never even happened. _Well, not exactly. More like I made myself believe that it was all gone, I so I didn't need to think about it anymore._

He had done a spectacular job of believing said declaration, too. _I dove underwater to save him from drowning during a field trip, sat with him under the stars surrounded by fireflies, and didn't feel a thing. For two years, Hiroki really was just a friend._

But Hiroki, in his half-explained misery, was now unknowingly doing exactly what had made Akihiko lose control for the first time.

_It's cruel, but he looks most beautiful like this. When he's crushed, or about to cry, he looks so utterly, undeniably _beautiful_ that I need to look away or risk damaging what we have now._

_And since he's not the kind of person to keep a conversation going, I'll have to do the talking for both of us before I finally do something regrettable. _'Hey, Hiroki?'

'Hmm?'

'I miss you', Akihiko said. His voice came out rather quieter than it should have been, but Hiroki heard it anyway. The comment seemed to fortify him somewhat, and Akihiko felt, rather than heard, his irate growl.

'Baka', he said gruffly. 'I'm sitting right here.'

'You know what I mean', said Akihiko tersely, determined to drag it out for once. 'I miss sitting with you in school. It's really boring without—' his serious tone broke, and he snickered briefly—'without you being yelled at every five minutes for talking.'

_Whump. _A pounding pain in his right shoulder told him Hiroki had hit him with his bag.

'Baka', he said again. 'You're a complete idiot. You're baka-Akihiko. Bakahiko.' A smile, albeit a shaky one, was spreading on his face, and Akihiko didn't mind the pain any more.

'Bakahiko?'

'Yeah', said Hiroki, smile fading as quickly as it'd come. Akihiko felt his heart sink.

'Stupid', mumbled Hiroki. 'How come you never get stressed like this?'

'I only do one thing besides eating, sleeping, and the other life processes', said Akihiko dryly. 'I write. How is that supposed to stress one out?'

'Hell if I know. Ah, _fuck_', he added vehemently, dropping his head against the tree trunk. Akihiko felt the _thunk_ travel through the bark to the back of his own head and sighed. Hiroki had taken to swearing quicker and more naturally than the other boy had done, but when he let loose Akihiko knew something had to be wrong.

'I hate this feeling now.' His lips, as soft and blood-pink as ever, twisted unhappily. 'Well, not that I didn't hate it before, but now I don't have the will to fight it any longer. The stress, I mean. It's eating me.'

Akihiko, in the meantime, was regarding Hiroki as if he'd woken from a two-year-long dream.

_What I feel or don't feel for Hiroki aside, I think I just realized something._

Hiroki the teenager was finely sculpted and curved all over. His face, completely devoid of baby fat now, was steadily developing a firm jawline that belied the sudden frailty that lay beneath. _A frailty that only I have had the privilege of seeing._ His hair had ripened into a cinnamon hue that seemed to ignite even more fiercely in the tunnel of fire that their hideout was wont to become. The collar of his school shirt was unfastened, creating a triangle of skin between the lapels and the brilliant red tie that screamed for a taste.

Hiroki the teenager was downright gorgeous.

Akihiko felt his breath catch in his throat like a fishhook.

_Is this the hunger that I knew all those years ago, burning in my stomach again? _As the thought fluttered across his mind like a capricious magpie, it suddenly wasn't just his stomach anymore.

_My hands are burning too, and my eyes. And above all, my mouth._

A single dry leaf detached itself from an overhanging branch and began its journey southward.

There was a fine mote of dust caught on one long brown eyelash of the boy sitting beside him, and as Hiroki blinked and struggled with tears, it quivered as though in assent.

Akihiko's voice was rough, wavering out of control. 'Oi, Hiroki.'

'Hmm?—Mmfph!' Akihiko had barely had time to give Hiroki some semblance of a warning before his hand was reaching across the narrow space between the two, fingers fastening around the tie, yanking Hiroki forward.

Their lips crashed together.

Akihiko knew it would be fruitless to even try holding back this time. His tongue leapt into Hiroki's mouth like a circus lion through a ring of fire; it devoured every square inch, every crevice of the pearly white teeth; it snaked under Hiroki's own tongue and waged a war that had begun with another kiss over three years ago.

It was only when a muffled gasp was let into Akihiko's own mouth—a gasp that he knew he should not interpret—that he pulled away with an almighty effort, panting and registering a vague sense of alarm at the tightness in his crotch.

The leaf completed its descent and fluttered to a rest on top of Hiroki's head; he shook it away impatiently. His entire body was trembling.

Akihiko let out a shuddery breath and said the first thing that came to his mind. 'Cheering-up charm. Remember?'

'Yes', said Hiroki simply. His eyes were on his hands, which were thrashing up and down in his lap.

The silver-haired teenager lowered his head onto his knees so Hiroki wouldn't see the color that had risen to his face. This was a blush of shame, and he needed to bear it alone.

_I finally snapped._ All that time telling himself that it was all fine, it hadn't even existed, and he'd lost control in the end.

'I'm sorry.' It was nothing louder than a murmur. 'I'm sorry. I wasn't'—_no matter what, don't say you weren't thinking—_'I—I thought it would cheer you up.'

Hiroki let out a snort that was quieter than Akihiko's murmur. 'All this time, and you still suck at cheering people up.'

Akihiko's head snapped up.

_He's not mad?_

Sure enough, Hiroki looked completely back to normal, if a tad flustered. His chest was heaving faster than usual, his face was flushed with a color that was different from its usual shade of awkward pink—but his scowl was intact, and so was his voice. There wasn't a tremor to be heard.

_He…isn't mad. What gives? _Far from being relieved, Akihiko was just perplexed as Hiroki looked down and tore a little strip of skin off the side of his thumb's nail.

'It's okay', he said to Akihiko's knees. 'You only did what you knew.'

The words found their way home, but there were so many layers of meaning hidden in Hiroki's steady growl that Akihiko had to give up trying to decode them or risk dying from the strength of emotion.

_First I lost control over my own thinking, and now I can't understand him either._

Hiroki now had a curious little smile on his face. 'Yeah, anyway, I'm all better now. I think I'll go get some homework done.'

'Eh?' said Akihiko blankly, still looking through a haze of shame and vexation. Hiroki had risen to his feet and was brushing himself off with practiced ease.

_He no longer misses the dry grass clinging to the fabric,_ Akihiko's mind managed, even in its state of uproar.

It wasn't the first time that he'd hated himself.

'Oi', said Hiroki levelly, standing in front of Akihiko's hunched and cowering figure. 'Akihiko. Look at me.'

Akihiko obliged, but kept his gaze on Hiroki's chin. _He can't look into my eyes now. If he sees me for what I am, I'll never see him again._

Hiroki sighed. 'It's not for nothing that I thought of calling you "Bakahiko". I'm not mad. You're just stupid, that's all. It's one of the things I got used to ages ago.'

He turned; his shoes scraped up tiny whirlpools of dust from the dry ground.

'I'm going home. See you tomorrow.'

Akihiko's eyes followed Hiroki's exit from the clearing; they alighted on his broadening back and swept over the swell of his buttocks. There was a thin layer of dust still clinging to the black of his trousers. A small hole peeped through the seam of one pant leg, and the white of his socks shone underneath, painted yellow in the sunset.

The hairs on the back of Hiroki's neck illumined in the rays filtering through the trees; then he parted the tunnel of fiery hues with lengthening fingers and seemed to vanish all at once. Akihiko waited until the last footfall he heard was fifteen seconds gone.

Then he unbuckled his belt and fumbled with the zipper. It slid open with a _snick,_ and Akihiko shivered as his fingers brushed against the beast that had sprung to life when he shoved his tongue into Hiroki's mouth.

_It hasn't gone down this whole time._

He thrust his hand down his boxers, eyes widening when a moan bubbled up from his throat.

_How come it's so much more…_

And just like that, he knew what he had to do. Panting now, his hand pumped clumsily, frantically.

…_intense this time?_

Hiroki, he thought vaguely in the tornado of his pleasure; Hiroki was the answer. Hiroki.

Said tornado whirled faster around him until he could no longer see the clearing, and had to slam his eyes shut.

He was burning. Akihiko curled tighter into himself, legs jerking involuntarily; sounds that he'd never considered himself capable of emitting were steaming from the depths of his belly. Sweat was simmering below his skin. His breaths swirled and caressed his own heated face; he was acutely aware of every sensation, every movement, every sound. Every taste.

_Hiroki._

He licked his lips without processing what he was doing and suddenly, he found himself sailing over the edge; biting into his free hand to muffle his shout of triumph, he spurted one, two, three times before collapsing messily over his own knees.

Again, he brought his shaking hand to his face and surveyed the residue with a listless, but intrigued eye.

_I think I feel more like a man now._

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**A/N: If Hiroki's reaction seems a little weird to you, just keep in mind that he himself was quite hopelessly in love with Akihiko at that time; rather than push him away, I figured he'd just hold on to what he had without expecting more. And somehow it doesn't really click in my head that he'd have held on to that sort of love for so long if Akihiko himself hadn't given Hiroki some sort of false hope towards the beginning. So yeah. :D Love you my reviewers and silent watchers (though I'd have loved some textual evidence of your appreciation)!**

**P.S. (IDK why, but the image of teenage Akihiko I have in my head looks a lot like Tom Felton's Draco Malfoy, only with violet eyes. A hangover of my Harry Potter craze, heh.)**

**P.P.S. If you really want to get a feel of this chapter, listen to the track 'Komorebi' from the Junjou Romantica OST. :D**


	7. Dare to Move

_Dare to Move_

**A/N: I gotta say I have very little patience with both the Takahashi brothers, though I understand and respect their characters; therefore due to my own selfish motives it's going to be a long, convoluted process through which Akihiko falls in love with Takahiro, because if it happened all at once Hiroki would seem like a pretty inconsequential piss in Akihiko's life, and my fic's motive is to show something like the exact opposite. :D**

**Now that kid!author has had her say, let's go on to thank all my reviewers and alerters once again. I love you all so much it isn't even funny. :P And no, freakylemurcat, flattery does not bore me, so feel free. *cough-review some more-cough* by the way, the backstory of Edward is that there IS no backstory. You can imagine whatevah you like *evil cackle* soulfighter-7, glad to hear from ya :) do write in more often, I don't need humungously long reviews (though I do love those), just a couple of lines is fine too :D**

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_He was completely normal the next day…except for one thing. He wouldn't touch me. He wouldn't touch me for four whole days._

It had driven him crazy: both the guilt and the longing, and the guilt over the longing as well.

_And though he eased up after realizing that I was determined to forget all about it, I swear he's still a bit strange._

Akihiko hadn't really had time to think properly since the day he kissed Hiroki for the second time. _Well, it wasn't so much a lack of time as it was a reluctance to think about it at all._ He'd created things for himself to do, drowning in his writing for hours on end if nothing else worked. Now, though, he was completely and utterly bored, and his aimless mind wandered blindly into the little pocket of heat marked 'Hiroki' every time it had nothing else to do.

That particular pocket, combined with what he referred to as his new 'manliness', caused problems in more ways than one. He fought the urge to squirm with embarrassment just remembering the number of times his post-orgasmic body had slumped in the shower over the past fortnight, his renegade mouth moaning in the most lewd way imaginable. _I seriously thought those kinds of sounds only existed in porn._

_Damn it._

He swept a languid look around the classroom, yawning cavernously. Sure enough, everybody was still writing, heads bent over the paper, scrawling away as though their lives depended on it. Akihiko had written out whatever he could and somehow finished the two-hour paper with an hour and forty-five minutes to spare. _I think I've got most of it right though. Why is everyone else taking so long?_

_Yeah, why _is _everyone taking so long? This desk is so brown…I never noticed the texture before. Well, I did notice the one on my own desk, though. The patterns were rather ugly. All gnarled like an eighty-year-old's fingers. Speaking of old, Tanaka's turning forty-six next month. I should really get him something. We're not exactly throwing parties for domestic help just yet. Haruhiko's proving to be a pain in the ass. Keeps telling me to work hard and all of it; he didn't even exist a year ago, and now he's just taken it upon himself to be my guardian angel or something? Angels…I wonder what happened to that snow angel I made last winter._

_Hiroki had found it rather ridiculous._

Uncaring of the heads that snapped up to look at him, he let out a noise of frustration and leaned against the warm wood of his desk. All that to distract himself, and his thoughts had ultimately come full circle to Hiroki again. _For all my insistence that it's fine, I can't get him out of my mind…_

One thought pinged free from the tension-laden wire that his brain had become.

_Move, then. Do something right now before you spend the next ninety minutes driving yourself crazy. Change it._

He picked up his pen, dropped it, and took out a pencil instead. His hand went not to his answer script but to the wood beneath instead.

_He stood in the center of the leaves that swirled around him like an autumnal snowstorm, and gazed at the scene before him as though he were seeing it for the last time._

Akihiko surveyed the sentence he'd scribbled onto the desk with a raised eyebrow; then he continued writing.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

He was still writing when the invigilator announced the end of the exam, and didn't look up when his script was taken with the rest. He dimly registered the _swoosh_ of paper lifting, however, and raised his eyes to look at the clock on the wall.

_I don't know if I wrote it all out, but at least I didn't have to spend all that time with just my thoughts to keep me company. _He threw one last look at the enormous story he'd covered the desk with, shrugged, gathered his things up and left the hall.

The sun shot bullets of brightness into his eyes as he exited the dim school building, and he was too busy shielding his eyes to notice where his feet were taking him. He found himself walking towards his and Hiroki's 'base' before he knew what was going on; indeed, it was only when Hiroki looked up from his book and let out an exclamation of surprise that Akihiko actually realized where he was.

'You're here early. How was your paper?'

'Fine', said Akihiko shortly, hackles rising in trepidation. Meeting the new, oddly distant Hiroki required considerable self-pepping on his part before commencing; he had been completely unprepared to meet him this time, and found himself feeling suffocatingly uncomfortable.

He made his way over to Hiroki, flopped against his usual tree, and extracted a notebook. 'We had Algebra today', he said, by way of conversation. _This is the first time I've had to consciously make an effort to talk to him._

His dismay grew when he realized that if things went on this way, Hiroki would soon be no different from the other people in his life.

Hiroki had flipped onto his back and was holding the book up to shield himself from the blinding sunlight. 'It's so bloody hot today.'

'Yeah', said Akihiko tonelessly, as the other boy loosened his tie, dropping the book onto his chest, and shut his eyes. _Don't you dare unfasten one more button on that shirt._ Guilty or not, Akihiko was still exercising a considerable amount of self-control to prevent himself from ripping the shirt off his friend completely.

After that first real explosion of his in the clearing, he'd rapidly figured out what made releasing more pleasurable and what didn't. Through his self-loathing and nervousness, most of the better things to do involved thinking of Hiroki; the thought _I want to make a mess of him,_ so unfathomable that day at the pool, now resonated in his heart like the tolling of a bell. And it no longer confused him in the slightest. Akihiko was very clear on what he wanted.

A little too clear, perhaps, he thought glumly; his eyes drank in the crinkling of Hiroki's eyelids as they clenched against the glare of the afternoon, then relaxed.

Hiroki's mouth began to move. 'Hey, Akihiko.'

'Yeah?' It came out a bit jumpy, _like I'm afraid he'll know I've been watching. _He felt like a child asking the captain of the base for permission to stay all over again.

'You never gave me the next part of that story', Hiroki said idly; a yawn wove itself into the latter half of his sentence as he tried to swallow it. 'Give it to me as soon as you're done. It was really good.' A growly chuckle followed. 'Not that everything you write isn't.'

The story he was referring to, Akihiko remembered, was one that he'd shown Hiroki before the kiss; he'd completely forgotten that he was supposed to be showing Hiroki the rest of it. 'Oh, that—I finished it ages ago. Here.' He drew out another notebook and Hiroki reached for it in mid-toss, eyes still shut.

'What I don't get', he mumbled, eyes fighting to stay open in the merciless sunshine, 'is why your protagonist is always so damn tormented.'

Akihiko let out a snort of laughter. 'It's called being human.'

'Yeah, don't I know it', said Hiroki dryly, turning over onto his stomach again. He rolled an inch or two away from his original spot in the process, leaving a strip of flattened grass in his wake. Yawning again, he flipped the pages of Akihiko's notebook until he found where he'd left off, and began reading. The frown slipped in without effort.

Akihiko smiled to himself at the sight. _Somehow he seems more normal than usual today…_

_Or maybe I'm the one who's been acting strange, _he thought suddenly. _Hiroki's naturally the kind of person who prefers to be alone. I guess I've been a little creepy lately—but how else can I react when I see the face of the person I jerk off to?_

_Maybe now that I've pretty much written all that tension out of my head, things will be the same again. At least, I can hope that they will be._

A breeze rippled through the clearing and both the boys closed their eyes, reveling in the respite. Hiroki seemed to sigh with content, and briefly dipped his head so his bangs brushed the grass: green stalagmites and brown stalactites met in a dance that Akihiko, lust-torn as he was, found inhumanly erotic.

_That sort of thinking only gets me in trouble, and if possible, affects him worse than it does me._ Akihiko knew that better than anyone by now. _But when I see him like this…I really can't help myself._

'Hey. Bakahiko.'

_Would it be okay for me to push him down right now…?_

'Huh?'

'The grammar in this paragraph is all off.'

'Oh?' said Akihiko vaguely.

'Yeah. Check this out.' The notebook was shoved under his nose, and a slim finger glided over the page, pointing out his errors. 'It's freakin' infested. What were you thinking?'

Akihiko squinted at the paragraph in question. It had been written on the evening of the kiss when Akihiko had finally gathered enough feeling in his legs to return to his house. He'd locked himself up in his room immediately, ignoring Tanaka's half-hourly knocks, and written until he collapsed out of hunger. 'Uh, um…wasn't thinking straight at the time', he muttered. Hiroki huffed. 'Pull your socks up. These two pages suck.'

He calmly rolled back to his original position and continued reading. Akihiko regarded him with a mildly concerned eye.

_He's seriously back to normal?_ He somehow knew, however, that more likely than Hiroki being 'back to normal' was that Akihiko himself had woken up from whatever daze he'd been in. He scowled a bit at this realization, and then relaxed with an inaudible sigh. _Looks like that advice I gave myself to 'move' worked._

_I wonder what the owner of that desk will think when they see that it's covered with some nonsensical story, _Akihiko thought, in an attempt to distract himself from the fabric-clad curve of Hiroki's shoulders as they hunched in his belly-down posture. _Though I should really have rubbed it out first._ The story wasn't particularly autobiographical, but as a largely therapeutic exercise it had certainly absorbed a great deal of his terseness.

_Probably one of the most 'tormented' stories I've ever written._

He chuckled, remembering Hiroki's comment and his reply. The story itself had been rather standard: his usual spiels about solitude and the like...but something was different. Though he'd sensed the heavy-handedness of his style improve and lighten considerably over the time he'd known Hiroki, he could have sworn that the story he'd clothed his exam desk with was possibly even more painfully lonely than anything he'd written even in England. _And that was the kind of shit I'm glad I didn't bring here with me._

_I really am scared of losing him,_ he thought, as a fresh wave of wonder crashed upon his heart's shoreline. _I don't think I've ever felt this way about anything else before._

_And since I don't want to lose him, it's best that I shelve these dangerous impulses right now when I can still see them coming. Now if only I knew how._

…_I don't think I'm done with moving yet. Problem is, I don't know which direction to move in._

'Bakahiko', mumbled Hiroki, not raising his eyes from Akihiko's notebook, 'the ending's horrible. Change it.'

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

'_Usami,_

_I'm the person who usually sits on this desk during classes, and when I came by the class after school hours to take something I'd forgotten I couldn't help reading the story you wrote here. It's obviously incomplete, but I found it really interesting, so if you have time after finishing your paper today, please continue. I would like to read what happens next!_

_Takahashi Takahiro'_

Akihiko studied the note on the desk with a mixture of amusement and mortification. _What kind of person actually wants to read more of that sort of thing?_

But when he finished writing and looked at the amount of time he had left, he switched his pen for a pencil and began to write. _It's still called 'moving'._

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**A/N: Buahaha :D All right, after some introspection I've decided the elder Takahashi's kinda cute when he isn't being stupid. Next chappie you're going to be seeing something suspiciously akin to a fanboy!Takahiro. Hehe. I just thought he'd be like that, since that was the way he was shown in the manga ("Usami! You're so cool!" much?) lolol. I imagine as a teenager he'd have been kinda starstruck by someone like Akihiko, specially before his parents' death matured him somewhat (okay, a hell of a lot. Poor guy).**


	8. More

_More_

**A/N: Enter Takahiro! Para-para-paraaaa~ For all my cackling, idk how good the characterization is, so please for Kami-sama's sake drop me a review telling me about it. *blatant hint* I never really understood the authorial obsession with reviews until I uploaded this, hehe.**

**Gotta apologize for missing an update yesterday—things not going so well at home. Anyway. Here goes.**

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

On the day of the third exam, Akihiko found another note on his desk.

'_Usami,_

_Your continuation was every bit as good as the first part! If you don't mind me asking, could you please write the story after every paper you have? It feels like there's still something left, and now I can't help wanting to read even more of it._

_- Takahashi Takahiro_

_P.S. You might not have seen me before; I sit three seats to your left, in case you want to know who I am._

Obligingly—and somewhat curiously—Akihiko looked to his left; a face was watching him with palpable nervousness three seats away. As their question papers were distributed, the boy named Takahiro waved hesitantly. Akihiko nodded in reply.

_Looks nice enough, if a little…well…dumb._

_Only someone dumb would want to read this story, anyway._

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It seemed so completely inconsequential to Akihiko that the truth didn't hit him until later that day, when he was back with Hiroki at the clearing, which seemed to be promising rain. The memory of Hiroki standing at the door of his house, arms weighed down with bags and bags of notebooks, had been all but crushed under the tonnage of feelings like guilt and self-deception. It had never struck him that it was a secret that he needed to honor every bit as much as Hiroki did.

'_I'm only showing these to you—because it's you! This is our secret.'_

'Hiroki, I'm showing my stories to someone else too now.'

There was a very long, very uncomfortable pause.

'I see', said Hiroki, unreadable. 'Who?'

'This guy at school. Well, I wrote a monster on his desk during my first paper, and…' as Akihiko related what had happened with Takahashi, Hiroki's expression stayed exactly the same, until Akihiko finished with 'he seemed pretty genuine about liking it, and that story isn't one I really care for, so…'

His explanation, which had pretty much dissolved into babbling, died into nothingness.

Hiroki resumed his reading of the book he was holding without so much as a flicker. 'All right.'

'Oh, okay then', said Akihiko, choosing not to look beneath the disturbingly neutral tone of his friend's response. He told himself that the odd chill fingering its way into his stomach was relief.

'Name?' Hiroki asked suddenly.

'Uh?'

'What's the name of this new reader of yours?'

'Um—Takahashi Takahiro.'

Hiroki seemed to consider for a moment, then sniggered in a manner that was very unlike him; the snide laugh clung to Akihiko's ears like slime. 'Ta-ka-ha-shi Ta-ka-hi-ro? What were his parents thinking?'

Akihiko felt a reluctant grin slide across his face; he'd only read the Kanji for the name on the note, and spoken aloud like that, the name was rather comical in that the first and family names sounded pretty much the same. 'Yeah, yeah, laugh…_Hiro-chan_.'

Hiroki's book bounced off his head with a _thud_ that would have sounded beautiful if originating from someone else's skull. Ruefully rubbing his forehead in an attempt to fray the ribbons of pain unraveling across his eyes, he glared at a put-out Hiroki, realized who would win the staring contest, and folded with good grace.

His eyes drifted to the overcast sky and he allowed himself to believe that Hiroki was at least slightly jealous; the thought was madly touching, if a bit far-fetched, but it seemed to make sense.

'He looks a bit stupid to me', Akihiko said, by way of peace-offering. 'Anyway, that story's one of my worst, so he really must be stupid to want to read more.'

'Your standards of bad writing aren't exactly the same as the rest of us', grumbled Hiroki, but he looked distinctly mollified. He reached forward to retrieve the book from where it had fallen after completing its trajectory, stretching like a lazy cat in the process; an inch or two of his shirt untucked itself from behind and hung out.

Two days ago, Akihiko would have wanted to slide his hand up there. He still did, but he found it a lot easier than it usually was to resist. _I'm moving. I have to put this behind me now._ The resolve was still aflame in him, fuelled by his crippling fear of losing the one person in the world whom he could claim as a friend.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The exams were finally over; Akihiko watched his last paper get whisked off his desk, glanced over the story that he had written the last installment of, and made to exit the classroom.

He had barely left the school building when a squeal shot into his ears—a squeal that definitely did not belong to a girl.

'_Usami!'_

Akihiko turned to see Takahashi hurrying in his direction through the onslaught of people; the size of the crowd, coupled with the knowledge that at least one person was definitely running towards _him,_ gave him the vaguely alarming impression that he was going to be mobbed. It was a relief when the boy finally caught up to him, face healthily flushed from the heat and exertion.

'Usami', he panted, as soon as he could speak, 'you're so _cool!_'

_The hell?_ Akihiko raised an eyebrow, and was about to supply a sarcastic quip when his eyes properly met Takahashi's bespectacled ones for the first time.

The boy had mellow dawn-grey eyes that were currently widened far past their normal size. Those eyes were set in a pale, mild-mannered face, which in turn was framed by hair so dark as to appear almost blue. And every inch of that face, from his eyes to his slightly gaping mouth, was screaming admiration.

Takahashi Takahiro was starstruck.

_This guy, stupid or not, really does like my work._ The thought was enough to fill him with shyness until he was positively boiling; a slow blush swirled on his face and he had to lower his gaze to the boy's arms, which were clutching several heavy books.

'Thanks. Would you like some help with those?'

Takahashi glanced down at the books he was carrying like he'd only just realized their existence. 'Eh, these? No, I'm fine. Thanks for offering, though.'

Akihiko ignored this and wrested two of the books out of the other boy's grasp. 'Looks like you study a lot.'

'Well, I have to', said Takahashi earnestly. 'My family really isn't that rich, and I need to get into M University.'

Akihiko looked at Takahashi with ill-disguised incredulity. 'We're years away from thinking about college, do you know that?'

'Yes', said Takahashi, oblivious. 'What I mean is, I need to maintain some sort of rigor in studying from now, or else senior year is going to be tough to get by.'

_That, or you really are stupid._ Akihiko hastily substituted his snort of laughter for a non-committal shrug. 'Well, since we've finally met, do you want to talk or something?' He didn't particularly care to spend the afternoon with Takahashi's chatter—_just what could a nerd like this have to say?_—but felt it was only civil to extend an invitation to one of the only two people who'd ever read his stories.

Having said that, as Takahashi seemed to flush anew with excitement, Akihiko found himself searching for excuses to bail early if needed. _I don't care if he's only the one besides Hiroki to have read my stuff…for one thing, he's nothing like Hiroki._

_He's nothing like me, either._ The thought followed close on the heels of the previous one. The one thing that he could say with absolute certainty by looking at the boy standing before him was that he was indescribably uncomplicated. _He's probably never even heard of problems like the ones Hiroki and I face._

Hiroki's words about his 'tormented' protagonists came back to him again.

_It could be,_ Akihiko realized, _because I haven't even known anybody that well who isn't that way._

'Takahashi', he said slowly, observing the angle of the boy's chin and the way it snapped to attention when Akihiko said his name.

'Yes?'

'Want to…take a walk or something?'

_Let me think of it this way—if he turns out to be too boring for my palate, I can at least make a character out of him._

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

They ended up walking around Akihiko's neighborhood, since Takahashi was confident he'd be able to get home from there, but the (_rather mortifyingly_) sheltered Akihiko had hardly ventured beyond a few blocks from his house. As they came in sight of Hiroki's house, he felt a surprisingly strong pang: this was probably one of the few times Hiroki would be captaining his base with no crew.

Takahashi's glasses had a little smudge on the top edge of the left lens, and he blinked every few seconds as though to wipe it away. The detail simultaneously fascinated Akihiko and irritated him. The other boy was shyly silent, blush even more prominent in the evening sun.

The sunset seemed to drench the neighborhood in varying shades of murky brown; the houses were all angled so as to catch as little sunlight as possible. Akihiko suddenly missed his—_our, Hiroki's and my_—beautiful, fiery tunnel rather painfully.

'So, Takahashi', he said abruptly, startling his bug-eyed partner, 'tell me something about yourself.'

'Me?' Takahashi looked genuinely surprised. 'W-Well…there's really nothing interesting about me, I'm sure, compared to you…I mean…' he flushed an alarming shade of red. 'I mean…you must be living such an exciting life…'

_Compared to you…_as Takahashi trailed into rather frantic mumbles, Akihiko felt annoyance seize him. He scowled noticeably. _Do people think I live like a prince or something?_ With a growing sense of wry awkwardness, he suddenly saw how he must seem to his schoolmates…the stereotypical lonely prince, possibly with a scarred and traumatic past, unwilling to reach through his own social clumsiness to other human beings.

_It's not like I don't have Hiroki,_ he thought defensively. _He's always been enough._

_If you're going to move,_ droned his voice of reason, _he's no longer going to be enough._

Akihiko sighed and cut Takahashi off mid-word. 'You don't have to be embarrassed because I'm filthy rich or any of it.'

'I-I'm sorry?'

'Well, you just seemed kind of uncomfortable', shrugged Akihiko. 'So I thought that might be it. I asked you about your life because I really don't know what normal people are like. It wasn't out of politeness or something.' He turned his face ahead and added, when Takahashi showed no signs of replying, 'so tell me.'

'Um', said Takahashi slowly. 'I…well, I like your writing a lot, I guess you can tell by now…I like reading in general, which is convenient because I need to study so much…and speaking of studies, I'm planning to take up economics, because I find it really interesting…'

'Right', said Akihiko, trying to inject encouragement into his voice and failing. 'And…?'

'And…well, I live in Bunkyou district…I live with my parents, and I've got a younger brother too…his name's Misaki, he's four years old…and…and, erm, we had a dog too…but it got old and died last year…' The aimless dissolution manifested itself in his voice as an 'erk'. Takahashi was clearly out of ideas.

'Hey…is it true that com—sorry, middle-class children collect toys?' Akihiko asked, out of the blue. He'd read about it in a book once, but never had the chance to confirm it.

Takahashi gave Akihiko a supremely astonished look. 'Well…yeah. I mean—didn't you?'

'Besides the mobile in my crib and a couple of teething targets when I was a baby…no, not really', said Akihiko honestly, feeling the revelation enclose him in wonder. 'Seriously? What kinds of toys do the children have?'

'Um—all kinds, I suppose. I mean…big stuffed animals, specially teddy bears…small trains that you can move around…miniature cars…well, it's different for girls, I'm just talking about what Misaki and I got…'

'Sounds fascinating', said Akihiko, vaguely taken aback at how eager his voice sounded. _It's not like I didn't know that there's another world out there…but this might actually be a chance to explore it._

'Tell me more', he said quickly. 'What food do you eat?'

Takahashi chuckled; it sounded almost patronizing. 'We're not a different species. I'm sure we eat whatever you do.'

'Oh', said Akihiko, feeling thicker than ever. 'You mean, you guys have Kobe beef and everything too?'

All the condescension vanished from Takahashi's face as he turned to face Akihiko so fast that he cricked his neck. Rubbing it gingerly, he muttered, 'No, I don't think we've ever had Kobe beef. For that matter, I don't think anybody in our neighborhood has…not that we don't know what it is.'

'If you know what Kobe beef is…why wouldn't you have it? Isn't it supposed to be the best?'

'Yeah, that's why we can't have it', said Takahashi, with the long-suffering air of someone teaching a five-year-old rocket science. 'It's only the most expensive beef in Japan, so we don't think about it much.'

_How can you not have enough money to buy Kobe beef?_ 'All right', said Akihiko, rather uncomprehendingly. 'Tell me more.'

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The last look he got at Takahashi was of his back, retreating over the curve of the road as he began walking back home. His hair, which was even darker than the uniform he wore, stayed surprisingly stiff; he looked like one of the toy soldiers he'd mentioned, painted rusty blue by the evening palette.

Akihiko shrugged to himself, unaware of what he was dismissing, and turned to his own house. He needed to make a call.

'Moshi moshi?' Mrs. Kamijou's voiced crackled over the phone.

'Hello, Kamijou-san', said Akihiko. 'Is Hiroki home?'

'Oh, hello, Akihiko-kun! Yes, Hiroki's very much here', sniffed the woman, 'he's in his room, as asocial as ever. Should I get him?'

'That would be nice, thank you.' As the other end hung empty for a minute, though, Akihiko wondered how nice the conversation was going to be. _What am I going to tell him, anyway? For that matter…why am I even calling?_

'Yeah?' This was the first time Akihiko had heard Hiroki's voice on the phone; it sounded deeper than usual, pitted and rutted by the crackles in the connection, and he decided he preferred the original.

'Hiroki?' he began blindly. 'I, um…just called to say, sorry for not telling you that I wouldn't be there today.'

'Be where?'

'You know, at our—base, or whatever…I ran into that Takahashi, and we ended up talking…so…'

The snort was clearly audible even though it seemed to have been emitted away from the receiver. 'Baka, we don't have an agreement or anything. Never expected you to be there every day.'

'Oh', said Akihiko, feeling stupid for around the seventy-third time that day. 'Well, I guess that's that then. Bye.'

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**A/N: Kobe beef is the best beef you get in Japan and supposed to be extremely expensive, like 10,000 Yen per pound or something. At least that's what (the place I learnt most of my Japanese from) says. So I figured I could use it as something that Akihiko would be pretty used to having even though it's quite out of reach for the plebe, because the podcast on that site said most Japanese people have never eaten it in their lives.**

**P.S. After the typing the last exchange between Hiroki and Akihiko, it kinda seems applicable to the rest of their lives too, ne? ^_^ Inadvertent deeper meanings FTW!**


	9. Treading on Dreams

_Treading on Dreams_

**A/N: Gawd almighty, a Shoudou chapter without Hiroki gives me migraine. I'm gonna incorporate Hiroki's physical form into every chapter from here onwards. Thanks for the review, Amelie :) made my morning, that did, but it also reminds me: where the hell are the rest of you guys? Judging from the amount of alerts/favorites I've got *grin* I'd expected a bit more than thirteen reviews at this point :( though I'm granting Cerberus-sama a bit of a reprieve; she seems to be hellishly busy. *doesn't have a thing to do till college* hehe.**

**The dialogue in the latter part of this chapter just spun itself, I was actually planning on something else…but I think it works. Kinda like a bomb, though…review, dammit, and tell me if it sounds off, because I won't know what I'm doing wrong here without feedback. *trying to get a bit sterner about this whole review thing***

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_Hiroki_

'_Akihiko…'_

_Hiroki's crying again. I haven't seen him cry since we were ten; not like this, with tears streaking his face like lightning_

_He's on fire. We're at our secret place and he's burning, and I have to cool him down or risk being engulfed in that heat_

'_Akihiko, it's not like we had an agreement or anything…'_

_A smile is quivering through the tears, he's trying to be strong now, he has to wipe away those tears or else he knows what I will do_

_And I'm doing it now. He's always like this…makes me want to lose control_

'_It's your fault', my voice growls at him, and then we're lost. He's lost the fight, and I'm lost in him. I need to keep tasting him until I'm so sick of it that I can't stand him. Because he's that intoxicating_

_And now he's gasping, writhing, flailing…moaning. So he makes those sounds too? The thought is comforting and sinisterly appealing_

_Because now I want to taste those moans as they seep out of that lovely mouth, I want to consume and relish every one of them. The breeze is gentle and he closes his eyes, and I close my mind as my hands take control_

_And now all of me is burning, I haven't been able to cool him down and now he's going to melt me in this heat_

'_Akihiko', he says between gasps, 'never expected you to be there every day…'_

'_Shh', I'm saying now, as I press against him fervidly; skin against skin, pulse against pulse_

'_Shh, Takahiro…it'll be all right…'_

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

'Akihiko-sama…'

For the first time in his life, Akihiko jolted into the real world with sickening rapidity. His chest pounded as though on the verge of implosion and his wide-open eyes literally saw stars for a moment as they took in the tall, black-clothed Tanaka, bending over him with mild concern.

'T-Tanaka-san?'

'Right here, Akihiko-sama. I take it you had a nightmare?' Tanaka replied indulgently, as Akihiko felt an eerie calm descend on him like rain. He shivered involuntarily.

'Tanaka-san…how did I get here?'

'I'm sorry?'

'Here…in this bed…how did I get back to the house?' he asked wildly; hadn't he passed out in the clearing, shuddering and panting atop an equally spent Hiroki? And 'Takahiro'…his empty stomach suddenly churned; reflexively, he clapped a hand to his mouth.

'Akihiko-sama…you seem to be unwell', said Tanaka, after a long, probing stare. 'You came back to the house last evening after school, as usual. You had dinner at dinner-time and then went to bed after a while. Don't you remember?'

'I do, but—!' _But what was all that with Hiroki?_

'I'm sure Akihiko-sama just had a nightmare', said Tanaka soothingly. 'You may have breakfast in bed if you so wish, and as today is a Saturday, you are free all day to relax and recuperate.'

_That shit was a nightmare?_ Right until the point where he'd choked out Takahashi's name, though, it had felt like the best kind of dream. Akihiko rarely, if ever, had any sort of dreams, and this one had been alarming like nothing he'd ever felt.

_Speaking of alarming…_testily, Akihiko shifted his legs under the blanket; sure enough, a sticky wet sensation accompanied the movement, and he felt his face begin to scorch. 'Um, all right, Tanaka-san. Thanks a lot. When can I expect breakfast?'

'Anytime you wish', said Tanaka, looking relieved to see Akihiko somewhat more normal. 'It was prepared a while ago, and all that remains is to serve, so…'

'Oh, okay', said Akihiko, wishing more than anything else for Tanaka to leave so he could examine the 'damage'. 'Um, I'd like to have it in an hour or so, after I finish bathing…and…yeah, that'll be all. Thanks again, Tanaka-san', he added quickly. _Not his fault that I just had the wet dream of a lifetime._

Once he was gone, Akihiko released a long, shaky breath and peeled back the pale green blanket slowly. As he pushed his pajama pants down on his hips, his skin screamed in pleasure at the friction and he scowled. _Looks like I came just a while ago, if I'm so sensitive._

He was a mess underneath. Akihiko allowed himself twenty seconds of half-intrigued, half-repulsed contemplation before pulling his pants back up and heading to his bathroom. _I don't think I've ever come that hard in my life,_ he thought angrily—_angry at whom? What?_—as he stripped completely and filled the basin, not caring for the domestic help's reaction if his spunk-stained clothes ended up in the household laundry.

_That dream…was fucking disgusting._

And incredibly hot.

Idly, he examined his naked reflection in the mirror, still flushed with his orgasm, and shrugged before stepping into the shower. The floor was predictably flat and soothing against his bare feet. He made sure the water was freezing.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Hiroki was there when Akihiko finally arrived at their tunnel, which was as white and blue and green as they'd ever seen it. He was lying on his belly against the grass, reading his usual books with his head propped in his hands, and didn't look up when Akihiko rustled his way in.

'Hiroki?'

Hiroki made no reply. Trepidation rose in Akihiko like fever.

'Hiroki…are you mad or something?' Softer this time.

Still nothing. Cursing under his breath, Akihiko knelt beside his friend and peeked at Hiroki's face. He was fast asleep.

Akihiko laughed quietly and, never one to pass up a good opportunity, took a good look at the other boy. _Damn,_ he thought waspishly. _It should be illegal to look like that while sleeping. If I were to do something now, he wouldn't even be able to defend himself…but him stretched out here like this is just asking for it._

Hiroki snuffled in his sleep and his hands flopped out of their positions, causing his head to drop onto his book. Besides the irate grumble, he slept on, unperturbed. Akihiko pursed his lips together in the hope that the action would remind his body that he was supposed to be getting past this.

He sighed and watched the breath raise the hair on Hiroki's pale forearms; the arms were sinfully bare in the pale grey t-shirt he wore, and Akihiko felt his hand rise of its own accord. He caught the action in the nick of time, directing the offending limb to Hiroki's hair instead.

_If I'm going to have to do something, I guess this is safest._

His fingers plunged in, swooning in delight at the sensation. He felt a very cat-like purr rise in him and almost hit himself. _God almighty, I think I could get addicted to this._ Hiroki's hair, beaded with sunlight, felt like heaven in his hand; with a stroke of boyish enthusiasm, he twined a couple of locks around his fingers and tugged gently.

Hiroki emitted another grumble that dissolved into intelligible words, 'Oi, stop that. Who the fuck…'

'Hiroki, wake up', he said, voice suddenly forceful. 'You'll—dehydrate, or something—if you fall asleep in the sun. Get up.' His tugs became more forceful as Hiroki's somniloquism became more and more pronounced. _I guess he wakes up like this…he's going to have serious problems when he's old enough to work._ He knew he needed Hiroki to wake up fast, though, because his tactic of stroking the shorter boy's hair instead of other…parts…was not going to hold him out for long.

'Akihiko…?' the mumble was still coated with sleep, and Akihiko couldn't tell if Hiroki even knew what he was saying. 'Akihiko, are we at the base?'

'Yeah, we are', said Akihiko uncertainly; Hiroki's eyes were still shut.

'It's 'bout time, you bastard…when didya get here?'

'Um, a few minutes ago, and you were sleeping, so…' Akihiko found it rather surreal, talking to a Hiroki who was clearly not in his senses just yet, and an idea flashed across his eyes with gripping certainty.

'Hiroki?'

'What is it?' He seemed to be drifting downwards again. Akihiko yanked his hair roughly, though not hard enough to give him a serious jolt but enough to prevent him from falling asleep completely.

'Are you mad at me because I spoke to Takahashi?' he asked sternly, thinking somewhere that a stronger tone of voice might reach Hiroki more effectively in his trance-like state. The idea that he could ask Hiroki just about anything he wanted to know flitted briefly into his mind, and was brushed away. _I've got enough on my conscience…though I'm not really sure what._

Hiroki chortled drowsily. 'I don't know…still wond'rin…'

'Well, I guess it'll be easier to tell you now then, but I might have to hang out with him a bit more', said Akihiko cautiously. 'He knows a lot of things about commoners like him, and I can use those things in my stories. It'll be more interesting when you read them', he added, by way of consolation.

'Mmmm', rumbled Hiroki. 'Funny…' A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth—a smile that Akihiko fancied was just a little bit sad.

_Hang on…funny?_

'What is?' asked Akihiko, perplexed.

'Funny…but…I don't know…'

Akihiko rolled his eyes and yanked at Hiroki's hair again. 'What's funny, Hiro-chan?'

'Mom? Your voice…kinda different…d'you have a sore throat…or s'mth'n…?'

_Mom?_ Akihiko thought confusedly, then realized that even through his haze of sleep, Hiroki had connected the shift in address to his mother. _No wonder he doesn't like me calling him that…well, not that anyone would._

'Yeah, I'm your mom', said Akihiko patiently. 'What's funny, Hiro-chan?'

'Funny', chuckled Hiroki, still clearly out of it. 'Mom, Akihiko might fall'n love with T'kahashi…and I've nev'r ev'n seen this bastard…it's really f'nny if you look at't that way…'

…_all right, he's speaking shit._ Akihiko concluded, rather regretfully, that Hiroki made no sense in his sleep—_which is weird, since most of his faculties seemed intact_—and gave one last tug to the other boy's silky brown mop before withdrawing his hand.

'Hiroki, get the hell up.' _Before you say something even crazier._

'Mmmm, mom, y'sound like Akihiko…why's y'r throat so sore…or whatever…'

'Hiroki', said Akihiko testily, sitting back on his haunches and watching his friend drift between sleep and wakefulness, 'you're talking in your sleep. Either wake up or sleep like a normal human being—wait, don't sleep here!' he said hastily. 'I can't carry you back home, you're not that light, and you can't sleep here, because—well, you just can't, it isn't right…ah hell', he finished wearily, as the befuddled Hiroki was clearly not getting any of it.

'Akihiko, that's really you, isn't it…? And whaddya mean? I'm not talking in my sleep…'

'You're not?' asked Akihiko indulgently, watching Hiroki open and close his eyes, gaping into his open book like a trout.

'No', growled Hiroki, suddenly sounding very awake indeed, 'I'm completely in my senses, Bakahiko.'

'Well, you are now, at least', sighed Akihiko. _If nothing, at least this lightened a bit of the stupid weight on my mind because it was so funny…and what the hell am I feeling so guilty about, anyway?_

Hiroki's random remark about him falling in love with Takahashi suddenly seemed to make a whole lot more sense.

'Anyway', he continued quickly in order to prevent himself from thinking anymore, 'When did you get here? Why did you fall asleep?'

Hiroki flattened a palm against the long grass, which peeped between his fingers like a naughty child, and pushed himself up languidly. 'I don't know…I came after breakfast…and breakfast was at nine…damn, what time is it?'

'Almost eleven, I guess', said Akihiko. 'Be glad I woke you up. You'd have dried like a shrimp in this sun.'

'Yeah, thanks already', muttered Hiroki impatiently, closing his book. 'Hey…listen. I'm really not mad at you. That's just stupid.'

_Aren't you?_ Akihiko wondered, remembering what he'd said in his sleep. 'Oh, all right.' And then, 'How come you're still hung up on that?'

'I don't know', shrugged Hiroki. 'Kinda heard you asking something in my sleep…well, I don't know if I said anything, but don't take that stuff seriously, because…well, because. Anyway, I was having really strange dreams, so I might have just said the first thing that came into my head…what did you ask me, anyway?'

Akihiko studied Hiroki intently. He was kneeling upright now, forehead cast into shadow by his gloriously illuminated bangs; his eyes glowed underneath, but betrayed no emotion; nor did his mouth, which was firm. His arms, almost completely bared by the short sleeves of his tee, sinuously ended in a clasp of his hands. They were also trembling.

'Not much', said Akihiko simply. 'I just asked if you were mad, and I couldn't make out your answer, so I gave up.'

'Oh.' Akihiko had never heard so much unintentional relief flood into a single syllable, and hoped he never would again. _Judging from his reaction now, if he'd said something that had actually made sense I wouldn't have been able to handle it._

As Hiroki reopened his book and began to read, Akihiko very nearly convinced himself that he had not seen a flicker of panic in those drinkable russet eyes that he'd dreamed of.

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**A/N: How d'you like them apples? *wonders tangentially where that phrase even came from* More Takahiro next chapter. Getting Akihiko to fall in love with him is making me dizzy, and not in the good way. Gawd, where Akihiko got off on falling for **_**him**_** when he could have had Kamijou Hiroki, bishounen extraordinaire, is beyond me. And the detail about the grey t-shirt is because I'm a sucker for guys in grey ^_^ I'd love to see Hiroki wear grey in the new season, if that's even happening…or maybe fanart…**

**Usual plea for reviews…not bothering to be subtle no more…**


	10. Forbidden

_Forbidden_

**A/N: Love ya Amelie and Ricchan :) thanks for the reviews, sweeties! Now without further ado, the beginning of lovestruck!Akihiko…which reminds me…for an in-depth explanation of Akihiko's actions and thoughts, you might wanna take a look at the very excellent freakylemurcat's review on…was it chapter 3? Something like that. The review makes me sound like a freaking psychologist or something, but I really just wrote whatever I thought sounded okay :D FLC's done a great job of crystallizing Akihiko's motives into a few lines (which I obviously found myself unable to do, hence this fic). And NOW, without further ado…**

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'Hey, Usami?'

Akihiko looked up from his desk, which he'd been in the midst of contemplating, and looked up warily. Takahashi was gazing at him, eyes aglow.

It had been a week since they'd first spoke. Somehow in the midst of it all they ended up sitting together; since Akihiko had previously sat alone, he didn't mind either way, and Takahashi had mysteriously disposed of his old partner for the chance to sit with the writer. _Weird how high school is a lot less uptight about seating arrangements._ Even if Hiroki and he hadn't been friends, as he'd discovered after joining his old school, they would have had to sit together because of their last names.

Here, anyone seemed to be sitting with anyone else, and Akihiko viewed this new leniency with a mixture of relief and dismay; it had given him the freedom to sit alone, but put no restraints on Takahashi sitting with him now. It wasn't as though he minded, particularly; the other boy was quiet enough, and contrary to expectations, didn't perpetually pester him on his writing.

At times like these, though, being pulled out of an engaging train of thought by a completely ignorant second party was the equivalent of having a spitball fired at his neck, and equally infuriating. He stifled a sigh. 'Yeah?'

'Well—it's the last class of today—and tomorrow's the weekend, so we can do homework later, so—I was wondering…do you—you know…want to go…somewhere?'

Akihiko looked thoughtfully at the boy sitting beside him, at his hair which was so dark that sunlight drenched it in navy instead of gold, at his grey eyes that were nowhere near as wide as Hiroki's. 'Define "somewhere".'

Takahashi looked taken aback. 'Uh, erm…well, I was thinking…since you haven't really been to many places in Japan…no, not like a trip or anything', he said quickly, 'I thought maybe if I could show you—you know, the places that people usually go to. I mean, middle-class people like me. Like you know, malls and stuff.'

'Malls?' Akihiko said, now astonished in turn. He'd heard a lot about them from the person extending the invitation—how they had everything in one place, and really cheap, too; how large and colorful they were; how awe-inspiring the first few times you visited. The descriptions had sounded rather conflicting to him, and he had, admittedly, been curious…but to actually visit one of those was…

_The perfect thing to write about._ The wonder he would experience at something like that was the kind of emotion he could easily translate into his writing. _And Hiroki —_he'd long grown accustomed to the fire-headed boy entering his every thought—_would love to read about it too._

_Hiroki…_

Irresistibly, Akihiko saw the secret place materialize before his yearning eyes in breathtaking detail; his tree, solid and rough and inviting; the overlong grass that tickled his bare skin so lovingly; the patch of sky that always looked so relaxed against the foreground of those beautiful trees. The clouds that would traverse that backdrop like worker ants. In the center, his captain—Hiroki, burnished in gold leaf by the sunbeams, the capricious breeze budging his chocolate hair into the book he was reading.

_That base needs crew._

'I'd love to go', Akihiko heard himself say. 'But…today, I've already got plans. Are you going to be free—um, next weekend?'

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It was with a rather irksome sense of satisfaction that he entered the base that afternoon. It was empty when he arrived, to his slight disappointment which he told himself he wasn't feeling, and settled down against his tree. _He'll turn up eventually._ Though Hiroki had blithely said that he hadn't expected Akihiko to be there every day, that was more often than not the case; _it really is the only place where we know we'll meet each other._

Hiroki or no Hiroki, however, Akihiko was glad to be there, among his familiar swaying bushes and stray leaves which lodged themselves in the grass. His notebook lying forgotten beside him, he leaned back against the tree with an exhalation of content. His eyes fluttered shut of their own accord against the heady combination of sweet breeze and heartwarming sunlight, and he was momentarily capable of believing that he didn't have a worry or lack in the world.

_As long as I have this place to come back to…I feel like everything's going to be fine. I think it already is. What problems do I have anyway?_

To his great consternation, his mind promptly began listing them.

_I'm lusting after my best friend._

_My only other friend in the world is something of an idiot who, though charming in his own way, can't hold a candle to most sensible opinions._

_On a broader scale, I don't really know what I'm doing with my life._

_Heck, even on a smaller scale I don't know what I'm doing either._

_I had the most horrible dream that I was…_

He opened his eyes in frustration; the sudden influx of brilliant color did nothing to soothe him. It had been a week and he still couldn't admit, even to himself, that he had dreamt of doing what he'd wanted for years now.

_I did just that, didn't I? I pushed him down on this grass and took him. And in the middle, I called out Takahashi's name._ He shuddered. _Besides that, I think the dream was pretty good as dreams go_, he thought absently, knowing that he was inviting his sense of self-loathing right back from where it had flown after he'd begun to 'move'.

_But what the hell would I say 'Takahiro' for if I was with Hiroki?_

There were no suitable euphemisms for it, he decided. 'Having his way', 'Taking', 'Marking', 'Tasting'…none of those worked when what he'd really dreamt was…_that I pushed Hiroki down…and fucked his brains out._

'Fuck', he said aloud, marveling at the rather tangential thoughts it drew into his head. He had never quite realized how powerful the word could be—one syllable, four letters, mantra of the average teenager. Taboo, forbidden, and somehow quite lovely. _ I think I like you._

'Fuck', he said again, meditatively this time.

'Fuck what?'

Akihiko looked up with a start. _Damn, for how long has he been standing there?_

Hiroki was leaning against a slender, dark-wooded tree with considerable amusement limned on his face. 'What's with the random swearing all of a sudden?' His eyes sparkled with laughter. 'You've been spacing out way too often this week.'

'Um, I was just…well, yeah, I was spacing out, fine', said Akihiko cagily. _Spacing out because of that dream I had about YOU._ 'The weather's nice today so I almost fell asleep, and one thing led to another…'

'Good thing you didn't actually sleep here', said Hiroki with a roll of his eyes, which was cut short thanks to the gleaming sun overhead. 'Ouch—damn brightness. Anyway, you're horrible when you wake up. Thank god I didn't have to put up with that.'

'I'm horrible when I wake up?' repeated Akihiko curiously. 'What do I do?' _What did I do to you?_

'Nothing, that's the point', snorted Hiroki. 'You just lie there like your ass is paralyzed until someone yells at you enough.'

Akihiko frowned. He was sure he'd always been pretty good about waking, if a bit of a heavy sleeper, so the only explanation for Hiroki saying that would be…a bitter smile fought its way up. _I guess my subconscious doesn't like to let go of Hiroki either, once I've got him._ He must be really difficult to rouse when wrapped around Hiroki. No wonder he was 'horrible'. _I really am._

'Hey, Hiroki', he said suddenly, just as Hiroki had fished out his book from his schoolbag. 'I'm going downtown next weekend.'

'Downtown?' Hiroki's eyebrows crinkled in confusion. 'Like, to the main part of Tokyo?'

'Yeah. I want to see a mall.' The wish, when expressed, sounded ridiculous and madly impossible all at once, and he felt incorrigibly foolish. _It's just a mall. Commoners must be seeing them everyday._

Hiroki's expression had turned introspective. 'A mall, you say…sounds interesting. I've heard of those. Dad gets stuff from them sometimes when he gets back from work. Hang on, though', he said sharply, scowl more pronounced than ever, 'you've never been there, have you? Aren't you going to get lost? Or is someone taking you?'

'There is', said Akihiko reluctantly. 'I'm going with Takahashi. He was the one who offered.'

Something in Hiroki's eyes dimmed; some strong emotion was shuttered into privacy. He nodded curtly and opened his book, flicking through the pages in search of where he'd left off.

'I see.'

And just like that, Akihiko was tired; he was tired of trying to decipher the beautiful, outrageously complex boy sitting opposite him in their sanctuary. He could practically hear his mind giving up, and it sounded suspiciously like a buttload of books dropping to the floor. _That's it now. If he says it's fine, it's fine. Trying to figure him out never works and never has worked. From now I'm just going to take him at face value._

With a movement so smooth as to seem unconscious, his thoughts shifted to Takahashi.

Takahashi was, by contrast, so linearly simple-minded that Akihiko didn't know whether to laugh or yell in frustration. _You can straightaway tell what he's thinking, and whether or not he believes what he's saying. So ridiculously uncomplicated, so readable…how strange._

_How annoying._

_How different._

_How…easy._

That was it. Takahashi was comfortable, he was easy, he was pure simplicity. No agony-filled interpretations or hidden layers of intonation. He had one side to him, which he showed to everyone he met; his eyes poured out his every emotion like a benign hailstorm. Akihiko wondered, stunned by the realization, if what he needed might not be someone exactly like that after all.

_Someone so easy that I don't need to think at all._

Like on the day that they first met, the beads of sunlight in Hiroki's hair seemed to rattle about as he rested his head on his arms and thought of things that Akihiko could not possibly know.

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**A/N: Short chapter, but the next one will be worth it…well…if I get enough reviews, that is…*epic blackmail* you guys really don't know what good they do my poor fangirly heart. Here's an analogy: imagine a dolphin at the beach or something, and you throwing it a fish. Now imagine that dolphin *squee*ing like a girl. Yeah, that's me, with a new review! So get off your reader asses and get typing; jeez this site even has anonymous reviewing, what else d'ya want? *permission to flame: granted* you don't need to praise me, though that's all very kind; pointing out my drawbacks would be perfectly acceptable too.**


	11. Love and Pride

_Love and Pride_

**A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, Mina-san :D! Cerberus-sensei, I looked over those foody bits and yes, they do stick out a bit on retrospection, so I knocked off whatever I could find *IS very much an adolescent, for the record*. Love your comments as always! Negative feedback's every bit as important as positive feedback (specially when I see the amount of said positive feedback, which always makes me go asdfghjkl ^_^) since now two people have suggested a Hiroki POV in this fic, I feel I should really address this where everyone can see it…but that'll have to be at the bottom, because it'd be too long to put here. Now let's go already. There's one heck of a chapter here.**

**33, I'm replying here since I don't know where else to (you're anonymous after all): They have heard of malls. Duh. I'm not saying rich kids in general won't visit malls, but since Hiroki and Akihiko are both reclusive by nature and Akihiko in particular didn't excatly have parents who'd take him out just for fun...plus they lived in a rather elite neighbourhood, if you remember, and those kinds are usually in the suburbs. If it's possible for Ritsu in Sekaiichi Hatuskoi to never have gone to a fast food joint, I guess it's plausible for Akihiko to never have gone to a mall. It doesn't strike me, at least, as the sort of thing he'd have done. Plus this is several years ago, when things like cell phones weren't all that common so locating stray kids would be pretty tough...well, it just somehow figures. Think about it... :P**

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The sign above the entrance to the restaurant read 'Pandasan'.

Akihiko eyed it with a mixture of amusement and skepticism. Some of his wariness must have found its way to his deep purple eyes, because Takahashi cut into his musings with a knowing grin. 'It's a family restaurant, so they gave it a cutesy name to attract the kids.'

'Oh, all right', said Akihiko for the twenty-ninth time that day as he followed Takahashi inside the clean, bright restaurant. Over the course of their evening at the mall, he'd got lost, dropped his wallet thrice, slipped in somebody's spilled ice-cream, and traversed a spectacular range of emotions. The indicator needle in that emotion range tended to quiver towards feeling prodigiously stupid.

_I can't believe this world was practically lying in wait for me this whole time. Just what the hell have I been doing with my life?_

_Writing and eating and sleeping and jerking off to memories of Hiroki's face. _The reply flung itself back at him with typical self-deprecation, and he made a mental note to stop asking himself rhetorical questions because his mind didn't seem to get them.

Speaking of Hiroki…Akihiko frowned at the gleaming surface of the table he'd been seated at by Takahashi. _I have to get him something, I suppose. He's never seen a mall either, though I guess he knew a bit more about them than I did._

_He doesn't seem to care much for anything besides books, though…but getting him a book seems boring…then again, he might not like something else…_somewhere along the way, the 'suppose' had evolved into 'must'; he knew he had to give Hiroki something, if only to assuage the guilt that was now so deeply enmeshed in this little escapade with Takahashi that he could almost get used to it.

Almost.

_Tap._

Akihiko looked up as slowly as it took for him to iron out his scowl. 'Oh, sorry. Got lost in thinking, I guess.'

Takahashi grinned at him from across the table, evidently enjoying his newly superior role way too much. 'Just don't get too lost', he laughed with uncharacteristic impishness in his voice. 'That's only what you do every day. Take a look around you for once.'

'I will in a bit', said Akihiko absent-mindedly. 'Hey, Takahashi…is there a way to take food out of the restaurant?'

'Sure is…it's called "takeout".' Takahashi's shoulders shook with suppressed mirth as another 'oh, all right' wrenched itself from Akihiko's mortified mouth. As he surveyed the food that the other Pandasan patrons were happily eating, though, he knew that food taken back would spoil by the next morning, and he'd feel rather foolish giving Hiroki food from a family restaurant when he could be giving him…well, anything else. _And it's not like I don't have enough of feeling dumb to last a lifetime already._

The problem worried his rather worn-out brain until he finally decided to bite the bullet. 'Takahashi?'

'Hmm?'

'What would be a good—I mean, is there a place I can get a—well, a—urm…'

'A what?' _He's the picture of curiosity now…so transparent._

'Well', said Akihiko, after a minute of uncomfortable false starts, 'I need to take something back for Hiroki.'

Bewilderment was evident on Takahashi's face. 'Who's Hiroki, now?'

'Hiroki's my—wait, hold on…' Akihiko straightened up and looked Takahashi square in the eye, willing his features not to betray any surprise. Willing himself not to _feel_ any surprise.

'Are you saying that I've known you for two weeks now and I haven't told you who Hiroki is?'

There were so many emotions chasing each other inside him—astonishment, guilt, fear, that perpetual underlying feeling of stupidity—that he quickly drew back out of his inner sanctum, focusing entirely on the conversation he was having—which was to the effect that he hadn't felt the need to mention his only real friend to a person who'd insisted on knowing everything he could about him.

Takahashi shook his head, bemused.

_I don't believe it. I don't want to believe it._

'Hiroki's a friend', he said simply, dropping his weary eyes to the now over-bright table. 'I want to get him something. What can you suggest?'

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It had been at least an hour since the purchase, and Akihiko was still turning the brown parcel over and over in his hands on the subway that was speeding rapidly back to his old world. Takahashi nudged him gently.

'It's just one gift', he said as soon as Akihiko looked up; his voice was unexpectedly soft. 'And if he does love books, he should be happy for the gesture, shouldn't he?'

'I—' his assertion that Takahashi didn't know a thing about Hiroki only brought him back to reason he didn't—that he himself hadn't thought it necessary to enlighten his new friend—and he stopped short, cradling the parcel in his arms one last time before slipping it back in his bag with his other purchases (most of which had been toys). 'Maybe. Yeah.'

'He must be someone important to you, for you to get so worked up', said Takahashi; his tone was casual if serious. 'You don't usually get like this about anything.'

Akihiko thought back to when he'd realized that nothing but Hiroki had ever stirred such powerful feelings in him, and nodded meekly at the assertion. 'He's a good friend. We've…known each other since we were ten.'

'Ah, that isn't as long as you seem to think', yawned Takahashi as he stretched his legs out in the crowd, taking care not to kick anyone. 'I've been in the same school all my life; I guess I've known most of our classmates for at least double that time.'

Akihiko sensed an internal scowl build up that was worthy of Hiroki. _Four years, or four days, or four centuries…who are you to say how long it takes to build a real friendship? You've known me for two weeks now and you're taking me around the city; me, not one of your other classmates, even though you've known them for so long._

Hiroki seemed to have been with Akihiko all his life. _I can't imagine, now, how it would have been growing up without him. Sitting at the base alone. I wouldn't have kissed him…twice…_the taste of Hiroki flooded back into his mouth like a song, and his fists clenched.

_You know nothing about Hiroki. And if this is the way you react…I'm glad I didn't tell you about him earlier._

'Hey, Takahashi?'

'Hey, Usami?'

'Yeah?' Akihiko looked at Takahashi, mildly surprised. A faint blush was visible on his cheeks for the first time that evening, and Akihiko suddenly wondered at how horribly the pink clashed with those woolly grey eyes. _It's like trying to set ash on fire. And failing miserably…_

'You can, you know, just call me Takahiro. If you want.' A nervous chuckle wove itself into the last few syllables. 'It's only a change of two letters anyway.'

'Oh', said Akihiko blankly. 'All right, then.' _Looks like he realized how freaking weird his name is too._ Hiroki's unbecoming sniggers sauntered back to him and were brushed away. 'You can call me Akihiko too, I guess all this _keigo_ is a bit too formal…well, _Takahiro_…since we're going to be a while getting back, I thought you might want to read this on the way.'

He pulled out a notebook at random from his bag—he had at least one of them on him at any given time, and since they'd gone directly from school he was still carrying all his books with him—and held it out. 'Some more stuff I wrote.'

'Wow…' Takahashi instantly switched into fanboy phase as he took the notebook, and Akihiko's eye twitched. _This might at least keep him quiet…I can't have him talking about Hiroki, or anything else that he doesn't know balls about, like that. Takaha—hiro means well, but even with all his intelligence, he can be really dumb._

His mind was jerked back to the present by the uncanny sight before his disbelieving eyes.

Takahashi had opened the notebook to the first page and was reading. All emotion, any sentiment of any sort had been blown clear off his face as his eyes sprinted across line after line of hurriedly scribbled Kanji. His mouth hung loosely open, pale lips moving slightly every now and then as he mouthed a word, and the blush mounting his cheekbones was one of pure pleasure. Behind their glasses, Akihiko had never seen Takahashi—no, Takahiro's eyes take on a sheen that was so utterly worshipful.

'_Usami! You're so cool!'_

_So this is how much he likes my writing?_

Akihiko felt a blush of his own stoke his heating face, until the flame that was flowering beneath his skin had spread all over his limbs too. An ache took root his chest until it felt constrictingly tight; he lurched forward in his seat, eyes widening.

_I know this feeling._

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'Hey, Hiroki?'

'What is it?' Hiroki grumbled, only half there as he thumbed through a new book he'd got hold of. Akihiko reached out and waved a hand across the narrow air between his friend's face and the pages. Hiroki finally looked up, a trademark scowl furling across his face. _Pity to have something that heavy on such a pretty face at this time of the morning._ Akihiko could not suppress a smile, feeling a sudden rush of affection for Hiroki.

They were lounging quite sleepily in their usual places at the tunnel. Akihiko still hadn't rested off his fatigue from roaming around what had looked like the largest building in the world (though Takahashi—no, Takahiro had assured him that there were several bigger ones) and Hiroki, too, seemed to be rather out of it for no good reason. Akihiko hadn't given Hiroki his present yet.

_I didn't wrap it or anything…I didn't exactly write something inside either…aren't you supposed to do that when you gift someone something?_

_Knowing Hiroki, he'll be happy just to get the book, but that still makes me a pretty crappy gift-giver._ He was suddenly glad he hadn't taken it out yet; he didn't think he could stand to give it like that. _Damn it, I've known him for four years now, I've surely made it past the time for such formalities,_ he told himself sternly.

Nonetheless, he couldn't bring himself to take it out as Hiroki glared impatiently at him. Akihiko lowered his eyes; Hiroki's gold-hazel-russet beauties, hotly penetrating as they were, were proving to be too severe in his currently rather tangled state.

'In my bag', he mumbled. 'Open my bag.'

Hiroki raised his head a bit more and regarded a very shy Akihiko rather cryptically. 'What's in your bag?'

'Just open it already', said Akihiko, impatience now swilling into his almost painful discomfort. 'Something for you.' His last remark caused the damn to finally break, and a blush ravaged his face with unrestrained ardor as Hiroki shrugged nonchalantly and raised himself up on all fours. With all the elegance of a practiced predator, he crawled forward among the grass—_it's so long it's going to bend in on itself in a while_—and used two fingers to snag Akihiko's bag by the strap.

The whole process felt tortuously slow.

Hiroki was sitting up, rifling through the contents of Akihiko's bag. _Damn, there's barely anything in there. How long does it take?_ Finally, he looked up, face blank. 'There's nothing out of the ordinary in there except a brown-paper parcel.'

'Yeah, that's the one', said Akihiko quickly, practically writhing now. 'Take it.'

Slim fingers fisted enough of the paper to tear it; the moment the tatters of brown fell away, Akihiko shut his eyes compulsively.

He didn't open them until Hiroki's growl forced him to. 'Akihiko?'

'Yeah?' he asked as his eyes wrenched open. For all his attempts at neutrality, he could detect a wealth of emotion in his reply, the most prominent being defensiveness.

In another state of mind, he would have found the scene before him adorable.

Hiroki was sitting cross-legged with the bag open on one denim-clad thigh, head hunched over the book in his hands, eyes on fire. An equally hot flush was dilating high on his cheeks as he looked slowly up at Akihiko, then down at the book again. 'How…did you know I wanted this?'

_You did?_

'I didn't', said Akihiko, the tension easing somewhat. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 'So do you like it?'

When Hiroki spoke, his voice had far more rumble to it that usual. 'Baka, I've wanted this one for months now. Where did you even find it?'

'Mall', said Akihiko without thinking.

An unmistakable spasm flitted across Hiroki's face before it reset into its previous mold of scowly happiness. 'Oh. Well, thanks a lot. Really.' His other book lying forgotten next to Akihiko's bag, he opened _The Life of a Panda_ with an oddly moving reverence and was soon visibly immersed. He hadn't even bothered to resume his usual belly-down pose on the grass.

Not for the first time, Akihiko's thoughts bounded away to an entirely different person.

Takahiro…

His newly relaxed body spewed forth a cavernous yawn, and he settled into his thoughts with unusual contentment.

_The look on his face when he started reading my story…I've really never seen him like that. In fact…I think I discovered quite a few more sides to him yesterday._ The boy who stumbled around everything in Akihiko's usual sphere was a complete fit in his own. _Up till yesterday, all I saw was a bumbling nerd, if a pleasant one. But now I think that's because he very clearly belongs in his own world and not mine._

And that world, as Akihiko had seen yesterday, was enormous, and enormously fascinating.

In an alien surrounding, the sight of Takahiro reading his, Akihiko's, notebook with that religious intensity—_an intensity that I've never seen him devote to anything else_—had stirred something in him that was not wholly unfamiliar.

_Trying to convince myself that these feelings don't exist, or don't matter, hasn't worked very well so far._

If anything, maybe opening up to those feelings would be more relaxing this time round. He recognized the squirming joy in his stomach eerily well. _It's what I felt when I asked Hiroki for permission to stay at the base._

So the rest of the urges that had followed in blinding, dizzying succession…would those follow this time, too?

_Is Takahiro another impulse?_

For once, his mind had no answer to that question.

_When I was younger, I was not only new to those urges, I didn't know what they were. I couldn't even understand what I wanted to do or why. This time round…maybe if I try, I won't mess up. Maybe…I can stop the feelings that still surface for my first…_

Hiroki's fingers turned a page with the delicate precision of a surgeon; his face was unguarded in its rapture.

_Maybe I won't want him to look at _me_ that way anymore._

'Hiroki?' he didn't say. He caught himself just as the name had coiled on his tongue: _what do I want to say to him? What would I ask? And…just why would I ask him something like…_

'_Hiroki, have you ever been in love?'_

_I…_

Akihiko gazed at Hiroki; his eyes kissed every gold-streaked lock of hair, every shadow he cast on the grass. Cautiously, he traced the arc of Hiroki's shoulder blades and rode downwards to where he knew his friend's taut stomach lay beyond his t-shirt. He probed the teasingly soft curves of those thighs. _I think it's happened to him too,_ he thought suddenly, answering his own question from a fortnight ago.

_I think he's had to touch himself too._

He didn't know how he knew.

Akihiko tore his eyes away and at his lap, which would soon be sporting a slight embarrassment if the heat at the pit of his stomach kept pooling. Willing himself to think of everything unsexy he could, he was flung instead to the other corner of his wearisome mind.

He oscillated straight back to Takahashi Takahiro. And the look the boy had worn…

_If I already can't get him out of my mind…didn't that happen with Hiroki too?_

_Now that I'm older, I guess I can ask myself this—might I be in love with Takahiro? Is it love…this overpowering sweetness, is this love?_

The question fluttered onto his consciousness with a gentle flap of its wings. _And what wings it has._ With the same tender reluctance, it nudged its way down straight through his heart, travelling further south.

_Have I really 'moved'?_

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**A/N: Beginning of the end much? ^_^**

**All right…two of my regular readers have suggested that I write an accompaniment to this piece from Hiroki's point of view. My honest opinion is that I'm not ready yet. While I can analyze Akihiko in many aspects and understand his feelings in a way I can't really explain, I feel like I haven't…known Hiroki long enough, so to speak, to get into his character so completely. I just love that man so much that I'd rather not write about him at all than attempt something heavy-handed like falling in love, and butcher him to pieces in the process. The last thing I want to do, as someone who takes pride in accurate characterizations, is sound OOC. I do happen to be working on something, even if it's not from the minimum arc…though that's only for practice, once I feel like I can do Hiroki's beautiful mind justice I will certainly try my hand at explaining his own complex and painful journey into first love.**

**And a cautionary statement saying my updates might get a little infrequent (think one chapter every other day, or every three days) for the next two weeks. Some real life issues have popped up and need to be overseen :( pity, since we're just getting more interesting out here, ne? Stay tuned ^_^ love to all…**


	12. Changes

_Changes_

**A/N: Again, cutting to a few years later ^_^ I'm evil…I left off that part on such a cliffie, heh. Let's see what happens after Akihiko 'realizes' that he's in lurve…thanks for the review, Ricchan (is it okay for me to call you Hana? And is it Hana as in Ha-na like Japanese or the one pronounced 'Hannah'?) and HeyNaniki too, as well as anyone else who reviewed in the pretty long gap between my inbox checks :D Adore all o'ya, I do. Raralandia, nice to hear from you :) sorry for not acknowledging it in the previous chap, but the AN over there was already way too long so yeah :P good to know you felt strongly enough to review, and thank you for the compliment. It means a lot to this lil girl :D**

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****

He waved a goodbye to Takahiro and turned away to walk the rest of his route home alone; as he knew he would, though, he let his head whip back every few steps or so, seeking the other boy's diminishing silhouette in the crowd of homegoers. As he knew would happen, an inexplicable smile pushed up the corners of his mouth when Takahiro was finally nowhere to be found.

Akihiko knew the ways he reacted to his classmate far better after three years. He knew the poundings of his heart and the trembling of his hands; he knew the quavers of his own voice when saying that one name. He knew that it was partly because of his previous hunger for Hiroki that he was so much better prepared to face the same things, but then again, the two appetites for his two friends that he'd discovered within himself were nowhere near similar.

_With Hiroki…the desire to just up and screw him was so overpowering that I could either do or die._

_With Takahiro, it's not so much my body reacting to him as it is my mind._

He relished the feel of Takahiro against his skin, of course. Three years of agonizing subtlety had ensured that their friendship was nothing if not physical in its affection. Lunging for Takahiro upon meeting was so commonplace as to be conspicuous by its absence, and he made a point of patting him on the back, for lack of manlier touches, at every chance he got. Unless that counted as some sort of release, though, Akihiko was sure that the feelings Takahiro was stirring in him had very little to do with the body.

_It's not that he isn't good looking._ Though still bespectacled and lanky, Takahiro had lost none of that single-minded emotional purity that shone forth so blatantly in everything he did. His face was mild and frank and _easy_ in a manner that Akihiko had come to value with alarming ferocity. _It's just that the way he is…all of him…there isn't an aspect to him I can single out in terms of attraction. _In that, his desire—if it could be called that—was like the one he'd harboured for Hiroki: he was hungry for _all_ of him, if in a completely different way.

All this and more he knew from experience and observation and reflection; none of the three, however, had served to solve the single question that was still eating at him.

_Do I love Takahiro?_

He'd answered it with a 'maybe' when the feelings had first begun to burgeon, figuring that somewhere along the way he'd know for sure. Takahiro, like Hiroki, wasn't going anywhere…_well, not for the next year at least, and then it's college and real life for us._ At least their relationship had remained satisfyingly static thus far, allowing Akihiko to observe himself with interest and alarm, as he confirmed that he definitely felt _something…_but for the life of him was not sure what it was.

_Crushes don't last three years…and I don't harbor any particular lust for him_.

He'd also tried to silence his rioting mind with the assertion that _if it feels like love, it's love._ The pragmatism in his heart, though, even through its envelope of romanticism, somehow maintained that love should come with certainty. _If it feels like love, I should know, damn._

The root of it all, somehow, was also encased in the fact that Takahiro and he weren't going anywhere, at least figuratively (literally speaking, Akihiko was now quite well acquainted with the world of 'commoners', thanks to Takahiro's patient, if somewhat condescending tutelage). The stability that their friendship had acquired so easily also ensured that their roles towards each other hadn't changed one bit. _He's still the eager fan, I'm still the lonely prince. When we go out together, he's my mentor and I'm the student. It's always the same_.

_I know full well how I react to him in ordinary circumstances…but to know for sure, I need something different._ He needed Takahiro to be something outside of his usual self in order to see what he would then feel, and he didn't see a difference coming any time soon.

_If I entertain the notion of this being love only because I'm comfortable in our friendship, then what I'm feeling, no matter how resilient, is nothing more than a pleasant ego trip._

His feet were carrying him through his front gate and up the driveway before he realized he was walking in the wrong direction. On reaching the door, he sighed. _I guess I can—I don't know, refresh myself or something, before I go the base today._ With the voracious hunger, a great chunk of his immature yearning to see Hiroki at any time of the day had also evaporated. _I somehow feel like we can only be called 'friends' now, when neither of us has intentions of being otherwise…well, did I ever even want to be anything else? All those things I felt for him were…well, rather unfair towards him too. Look what they made me do to him…twice…_

Tanaka was in the hall when he entered; he'd apparently been waiting, because even before Akihiko could ask what the matter was he bowed slightly and said, 'Akihiko-sama, welcome home. Isaka-sama is waiting for you in your room.'

_Isaka-san?_

'Oh', said Akihiko uncertainly. 'Well, I'm going to go meet him, then. Thanks, Tanaka-san.' He headed in the direction of the stairs, his already churning thoughts now peppered with curiosity.

Isaka was a few years his elder and worked at a publishing house. Growing up, he'd lived close by, but the difference in their ages and Akihiko's reclusive nature had worked against their becoming friends; the man had eventually grown close to Haruhiko instead, and Akihiko had found it convenient that the pressure of communicating with both his half-brother and his neighbor had been solved in one go.

Their love of books had caused them to maintain a cordial relationship, however, and they were on reasonably good terms though in no way bosom. Akihiko personally placed Isaka in the grey area of people who weren't quite friends, but tolerable enough: a circle that, he realized with a bitter sadness, Tanaka would soon be slipping into if Akihiko remained as laconic as he was. _When I have a lot on my mind—which I've had for a long time now—the people on the periphery are the first to go._

So he saw no real reason for Isaka to be in his room, but as luck would have it, he never found out why either.

'Isaka-san, I'm back. What did you—'

The door had opened to reveal an open notebook and a wide-eyed Isaka.

In the split second that Akihiko's mind took to process the situation, he saw several other notebooks lying open on his desk; the whole thing was eerily similar to when he'd found Hiroki doing the exact same thing…except Isaka was no pretty, urge-provoking friend to be let off so easily, maybe with a bagful of books or two.

He felt the explosion welling inside him, and looked forward to cresting this particular wave of fury.

'HEY! DON'T READ THOSE!'

Isaka looked up, unmistakable guilt riding hard on his features but revealing a grim determination as well. 'Hey', he replied, as calm as Akihiko was flustered. 'You wrote this, right?'

_What the fuck—_

He lunged forward, trying to snatch the notebook away, but Isaka held it out of his reach, still infuriatingly calm. _Damn it, at least Hiroki was embarrassed about the whole thing._ No embarrassment would compete with his own at the moment, however; his writings had just been read by the equivalent of a stranger.

'Give it back!' he shouted through a very red face, blinking back the tears of frustration that were pricking his eyes.

Isaka gave him a look as if to ask him that he really thought that would work. 'Is it finished? How many pages is it?'

'Isaka-san!' yelled Akihiko, this time with a new sharpness. _Will you not be so fucking cool about the whole thing!_

'AKIHIKO!'

The volume of Isaka's voice, which had risen to rival Akihiko's, rang out in silence; a bewildered and frustrated Akihiko stared resignedly at Isaka who, to his astonishment, held the notebook out to him.

'It doesn't matter which one', Isaka said finally, breathing heavily through the nose, 'but submit this to a publishing house.'

_Huh?_

Of all the things he'd expected…

As he began to articulate his confusion, Isaka spoke again. 'No, wait! To us. Submit this to Marukawa Publishing.'

Akihiko's mind finally began to pick up its pace again, and so did its usual pigheadedness. 'What are you saying? I didn't write these because I wanted to become famous…'

Isaka finally did lose his patience; his face turned a magnificent shade of puce as Akihiko realized, a little too late, that he hadn't been in a good mood to begin with.

'It doesn't matter, just do as I say!' he roared. 'Got it?'

The door slammed so hard that all the pages of the open notebooks around Akihiko fluttered like hummingbirds before going limp again. Trying to make sense of what had just happened, he slowly sank down on his bed and took a deep breath.

_Did he just ask me to get this published?_

'_No, wait—to us. Submit this to Marukawa Publishing.'_

Akihiko ran a finger down the spiral of the notebook he was still clutching and wondered.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

'Submit it to a publishing house?'

Hiroki's eyes peeked over the top of the book he'd been reading and regarded Akihiko thoughtfully. 'Which one did he read?'

Akihiko wordlessly held out the notebook that he'd carried all the way to the base without realizing; it was completely filled, and no good for new writing, but now he had other things to think about anyway. 'He told me to submit it to Marukawa. That's the one he works for.'

Hiroki's eyes smiled, even if the rest of his face didn't. The boy had gradually become more stoic, more composed; while it was becoming in some ways, Akihiko couldn't help but wonder why, or how, his friend cultivated such an impassive façade; external appearances aside, surely it was somewhat unhealthy. The only emotion his face betrayed easily was anger. _And how. Wonder where all that energy comes from._

Having said that, right now Hiroki did look quite pleased. 'That means a lot more than just asking you to get it published, you know.'

'It does?'

'Stupid', said Hiroki impatiently, 'if he wants you to submit it to his own company it means he's seen something really good in there and doesn't want it getting away. More than that, though, it also means he's willing to take responsibility for it. He likes it that much.'

_Oh._ Seeing the admiration on Takahiro's face day after day had considerably lessened his tendency to fall over himself when complimented on his writing, but it still managed to embarrass him. His head sagged shyly, eyes resting on the notebook that Hiroki now held. While he was no longer tempted to lace those fingers with his, he still appreciated the fine-boned beauty that Hiroki had become; all that swimming had finally paid off, resulting in a body so charmingly lithe that Akihiko was glad his feelings had finally shifted.

'I don't know if I'm ready to get published just yet', he said at length, adroitly sidestepping the 'Takahiro Express' that was signaling his mind aboard. 'It's just—I don't know, a lot to take in.'

'You won't know unless you hand it in first', offered Hiroki, attention already drifting back to his book. 'And as for feeling ready…well, wait for a while, and if you don't feel ready, just do it anyway. Sometimes you won't know for sure unless you take the first step. It's not like you have anything to lose.'

With that his tawny eyes resumed their perusal of his book, while Akihiko was left to run his fingers through the now hair-like grass and think.

_Take a first step?_

The thought echoed emptily in his head; no response was thrown back. For the first time since he could remember, it was dead silent in the mind of Usami Akihiko.

'Listen, Bakahiko.'

Akihiko's head snapped up; Hiroki was gazing intently at him, book quite forgotten, and he shifted uncomfortably. _His eyes are still as wide as ever…but he narrows them so often nowadays…_not for the first time, Akihiko wondered just what had changed in Hiroki over the years. _He's gotten tougher. Fiercer. Smarter._ And, though it no longer fired him up the same way, undeniably better-looking.

Hiroki, having completed his scrutiny of Akihiko's pinkening face, looked down abruptly.

'Sometimes there's no knowing for sure unless you make a change', he mumbled. 'And until that change comes, or you cause one yourself, just do what you normally would.'

_Takahiro._ Akihiko felt that mysterious smile trace the curve of his lips again and realized many things at once.

Hiroki cocked an eyebrow at him. 'Got it?'

Akihiko nodded.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**A/N: From what I could make out of Junjou Egoist Act 5, Hiroki gives the darnedest advice when distracted by something (that poor dear just cannot multitask, hehe). So I don't think it's particularly OOC of him to say something like that to Akihiko (and when you think that he's also in love with the person whom he's trying to pep up…) so yeah, well :D I did manage to get a chapter up today. YOU'RE WELCOME. *extends begging bowl marked 'reviews'***

**Just kinda sad that the change which eventually comes Akihiko's way is freakishly extreme…I suppose most of you can already guess what it is.**

**(This chapter was typed in a bit of a hurry, so it's completely un-looked through; feel free to point out typos and the like. I can't stand them.)**


	13. Foreseen, Unseen

_Foreseen, Unseen_

**A/N: K, I reuploaded the previous chapter with a few edits because the last bit was being stupid :P rather inconsistent in style with the rest of it all; I was in a hurry, like I said. Sue me. Hehe.**

**Due to circumstances beyond my control it's been decreed that I need to stay away from my laptop for around a fortnight now (well, the eight, to be exact). The ginormous gap that this lack of writing has left behind needs to be filled by more 'constructive habits', which I can't stand for the life of me, so when I'm supposed to be doing other stuff what I do is make flowcharts for my upcoming chapters (what can I say? I'm going to be majoring in computer science, I like my information well-organized hehe). Idk why I mentioned that, just found it kinda funny. Wonder if anyone else plans chapters that way? Anyway. This chapter is the one that drops the bomb. And wtf, no reviews for the last chappie? (Admittedly the last part was a bit off but still) and when I check my stats I see like 400 hits, WHY YOU NO REVIEW?**

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

'Akihiko-sama…'

Eighteen-year-old Akihiko finally turned away from his bedroom window and the morning drizzle to face Tanaka, who'd entered noiselessly. He smiled; it was a genuine one, but to his utmost horror his tear ducts were prickling.

_I didn't think I would—_

'Tanaka-san', he said, voice soft but firm. 'I should have been the one coming to you…'

Tanaka shook his head in an uncharacteristic non-committal gesture. 'What does it matter, Akihiko-sama? I—' he broke off mid-sentence, almost mid-word, and shook his head again. 'I am sure you would have said goodbye of your own accord, not to please—'

_Your father,_ Akihiko clearly heard.

'—anyone else', Tanaka finished, 'so surely it makes no difference if I am the one coming first.'

Akihiko's smile faltered; his lips began to tremble alarmingly. 'Ah, just drop all the formality for once, will you, old man?' he groaned impatiently, stumbling across his still-furnished room and all but throwing himself at a very surprised Tanaka.

_I've never hugged him before, not even when I was a child,_ he noted with some surprise of his own. Tanaka felt reassuringly solid against his now quaking foundations, and Akihiko somehow mustered enough strength to push his tears back, even as his arms tightened. Every bit an egoist in his own right, there was no way in hell, heaven or earth that he would let his parents think he had shed tears on moving out of the house he so hated.

_Damn this Tanaka…there's nothing and no one else I'll miss._

He released Tanaka at length, only dimly aware that at some point, the older man's arms had come up to rest on his back. Rather pink now, he stepped back and fiddled with the hem of his shirt before mumbling a goodbye.

Tanaka gave him a grave smile. 'You will come to visit us occasionally, Akihiko-sama?'

Looking at the man before him, asking the question in such earnest, Akihiko could almost believe himself as he said, 'Yeah, maybe…I'll try.'

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

He had surprisingly few things to move to his new flat in downtown Tokyo. Apart from clothes and a few books—he knew he was bored of most of the ones he owned, and as a published writer now he wrote much more than read—he'd insisted on buying everything else himself, from his doormat to the bedsheets. It had been part of his largely unspoken agreement with his father.

_I get to move out as long as I study law like he wants me to._

The pact was largely in Akihiko's favor. He knew he would never pursue his college major, preferring writing over anything else; he was smart enough to score decently on all his exams regardless of interest or effort, and the brand name of Teito University mattered a great deal more to everybody else than it did to him. Hiroki had also been accepted to the same University as a classical literature student—_typical,_ Akihiko had thought amusedly—and was supposed to be moving out as well.

_Unlike me, though, he can afford the luxury of lounging around his house to spend a few days more with his family._

When he rang Hiroki's doorbell, his friend's voice growled to just let himself in. Hiroki was lolling on the sofa in his living room, eating salmon-flavored crackers with almost indecent enthusiasm. He looked up only briefly when Akihiko entered. 'So…leaving today, are you?'

Akihiko nodded with a half-hearted chuckle. 'Ironically, I think I'm going to miss your house more than my own.'

'I think I'm going to miss your house more than my own, too', said Hiroki dryly. 'Maids, pets, butlers, room service…you've got your own personal hotel in there.' His tone was light as he said this, though; Akihiko knew that his hatred of his house was a bit of an open secret. 'Crackers?'

Akihiko took one absent-mindedly, and when Hiroki concentrated on stuffing himself for a second too long, he couldn't resist a bit of a jibe. 'Comfort food, Hiroki?' he teased gently, deciding the flavor of the cracker was more than okay.

_Whump._ A cushion from the sofa made its way to his face. 'Comfort food my ass', snapped Hiroki, though his ears were already a telltale crimson. 'So I have weird eating habits. Sue me.' Hiroki had been no less excited about living on his own than Akihiko had, and he knew there was no way the other boy would admit that he was lingering around his childhood home on purpose. _He'll never live it down if he gets homesick…_

Akihiko grinned indulgently and watched Hiroki's firm, unstubbled jawline work on what looked like six crackers at once; the crunches issuing from his mouth sounded more like eight. Once he'd swallowed and stuffed his hand into the bag for more, he cast a sideways glance—a glance that Akihiko very nearly didn't catch.

'And that "Takahiro" of yours…what about him?'

'Takahiro's still staying home', said Akihiko disbelievingly. _Wonder what it's like to love your family so much that you don't want to leave them when you can…_ 'His house is quite close to M University, and that's where he's going, so it's convenient for him too.'

'I see', said Hiroki simply, resuming his food pillage with renewed vigor. 'Oi—help me finish these, mom doesn't know I bought so many and I'll get yelled at even on my last weekend here.'

'Speaking of which…where is your mother?' _She doesn't work…but the house seems quiet besides us._

'Visiting a friend', said Hiroki through a mass of cracker. 'That woman's also got a son who's entering college—don't think I've ever met him, though—and they're going to head to the city and buy stuff for the two of us. Or something.'

'Stuff?'

'Yeah, I mean, the stupid things that they don't trust guys to buy, like dishcloths and salt shakers and underwear and—' Hiroki stopped, suddenly very interested in what he was eating, and Akihiko let out a snort of genuine mirth. 'Are you saying your mother is in Tokyo buying your underwear for you?'

'If it's any comfort, Bakahiko, I have no intention of wearing any of it', said Hiroki sharply, and Akihiko backed off for a while to let him stoke his pride in peace; the cinnamon-haired boy folded his legs up on the sofa and clutched the bag of crackers to his chest, emitting soft lion-like growls every now and then. Akihiko found the picture oddly endearing.

_It's probably the last time I can just drop in on Hiroki like this._ The emotion this simple thought stirred in him startled his mind into action before he could begin feeling any worse. _This is supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life._

'Sooo…if she's buying your underwear, and you're not planning to wear it', began Akihiko impishly after what he deemed an appropriate time period, 'what are your other plans?'

'I'll go without', said Hiroki seriously. 'I've got big things down for college.'

Akihiko looked at Hiroki with genuine concern. 'Do any of those plans involve a lack of underwear?'

'Most of them do.' Hiroki's voice was idle, but carried no hint of sarcasm. Akihiko, not one to tell easily whether his rather unfathomable friend was joking or not, didn't press the subject as he held his hand out for more crackers. 'I like those.'

'What, the underwear?'

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Takahiro's voice crackled on the other end of the line.

The rain had steadily increased all day, and now at seven in the evening, Akihiko was moodily gazing out of a darkened window next to his new bed feeling thoroughly miserable. He'd called Takahiro up, hoping to be cheered by the other boy, but the weather meant that his connection was bad and Takahiro himself was proving to be far _too_ chirpy to be of any real use.

Nonetheless, it was soothing just to hear the clear, guileless voice that he had grown to like so much, he decided. Takahiro was yammering on about his brother, Misaki, and the friendly spat they'd just had. 'Mom and dad are out tonight', he said happily, over background yells of _Nii-chan, nii-chan!_ 'And Misaki told them to hurry back! That's the first time he's ever said that! You'd think he didn't like being in the house with poor old me!' An aggrieved sigh punctuated this account, only to be cut off with an 'oof!' as what sounded like little Misaki collided with Takahiro at full steam.

'Nii-chan', Akihiko could hear over the phone, 'who're you talking to?'

Takahiro's voice found its way back into the picture, if considerably out of breath—Akihiko had no difficulty visualizing the wildly merry atmosphere in his friend's home, and thought of Haruhiko with a bitter smile. 'Ah, sorry, Akihiko. Hey, would you mind talking to Misaki for a while? He's curious, I don't usually talk much over the phone, so…'

A sharp rustle told Akihiko the receiver had changed hands. 'Hello?' a childish and surprisingly shy voice peeped out of the speaker. Akihiko raised an eyebrow at nothing in particular. _With his brother he's a complete brat, and here…_

'Hello, Misaki', he said cautiously, not wanting to upset the little boy by saying anything unintentionally weird—he hadn't the least idea of how to handle children, as he'd told Takahiro on several occasions. 'My name is'—he realized 'Akihiko' would be a little difficult for Misaki to pronounce—'Usami.'

'Okay', said the voice, as timid as ever, 'my name is Misaki. _Yoroshiku onegaishimasu._'

And the receiver crackled again as Takahiro's indulgent laugh found its way across half of Tokyo. 'So, Misaki', he was saying, 'what did he say?'

'He told me his name is Usagi', came the younger voice, suddenly as loud and cheery as it had been. 'Nii-chan, you're friends with a rabbit? Can rabbits talk?'

Takahiro and Akihiko let out synchronized snorts of laughter. 'He's not a rabbit, Misaki', Takahiro chortled. 'But I'm sure he won't mind you calling him "Usagi"…right, Akihiko?'

'Right', said Akihiko, rolling his eyes. _He's just a kid, and I'm sure I won't be meeting him anytime soon._ 'As long as you don't end up calling me that, too.'

_Usagi._ Akihiko, never one to dismiss anything on the grounds of absurdity, decided he liked the name.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It was an hour later that Akihiko finally removed his now aching ear from his phone and hung up. The sigh that escaped his lips was weary, if marginally uplifted. He tossed his call phone onto the bedside table and let his eyes take in his bedroom.

A laptop sat on his desk, surrounded by random books. He'd bought it partly out of compulsion, because the increasingly tough deadlines he was facing for his novels no longer afforded him the luxury of the handwritten manuscripts that he preferred; however, he was now thankful for its convenience. In spite of his initial apprehension about publishing, he'd soon discovered that a demand for his writing, rather than diminish his skills, served to augment it. He no longer had the patience to write down everything that sprang into his imagination, now that he knew he would be relying on said imagination for a living.

The desk was modest enough, as was his bed and most of his other furniture. Years of second-hand commoner life courtesy Takahiro had instilled in him a mad desire to experience the real thing, and he'd done his best to keep his tastes in home décor muted. _I think I did a pretty good job,_ he thought glumly. Though far too proud to admit it even to himself, the stark contrast of his new bedroom with his old was making him feel distinctly uneasy.

And, of course, the other source of uneasiness that now hung over him, cloud-like, through the wildest of musings.

_I still haven't figured out my feelings._

The change hadn't come. Hiroki had sounded all very wise while saying it, and Akihiko had found the advice sound enough (at least in the area it was intended for), but that didn't change the fact that he was still oscillating in uncertainty.

_All these years…and all I know for sure is that I like his company because he's open and readable._ It was a pretty crappy explanation for his quirky little reactions to the other boy, his trembles and blushes and touches that pushed it beyond the realm of ordinary friendship but left it achingly short of any conclusive sentiment.

_What do I want to do with Takahiro?_

_Screw this,_ he thought grumpily. _I'm going to sleep. I'm so turning in for the day. I'm fucking tired._ He knew that his untidy state of mind had many reasons behind it at present—like, for some reason, the hope that had coursed through Tanaka's voice when asking Akihiko if he would visit.

_God almighty. Was that really this morning?_

Akihiko pulled the blanket all the way over his head, like he knew Hiroki was prone to doing when feeling vulnerable, and decided it helped. At least to block out the sound of the rain that was plummeting against his windows like hellfire. _Whatever my reasons...I just need to find the answer soon._

At around six in the morning, his phone rang.

It was Takahiro.

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**A/N:…Right, I really don't know what to say :P so do review.**


	14. Harder

_Harder_

**A/N: All righty, I'm halfway through Cerberus Revised's Days Without Sun and I shit you not dudes I am more than a bit spooked. (Not that I don't love the story) So forgive me if this latest chapter seems a bit erratic here and there…I feel like I've been dallying on such an important bit for too long… :P Enjoy Akihiko's own enjoyment of his realization while it lasts, buddies, cuz you know as well as I do that it kinda gets worse from here…and please do read the note I'll be inserting at the end, because it's sorta important for the story ^_^**

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'_Cheering-up charm, remember?'_

His own words swam back to him through his daze and he grimaced. _Almost makes me wish I was a kid again, so that sort of thing would be excusable._

Takahiro's hand was clammy and tepid in his own larger one, fingers laced together in a gesture that was most intimate in that the dark-haired teen was completely, blissfully unaware of the intimacy. He was contemplating his shoes and had been for five minutes now.

Akihiko spoke tentatively, voice soft enough that it invaded the rain-stabbed silence without completely slicing it. 'The funeral…'

'Just a bit of a ceremony', said Takahiro tonelessly. His voice wasn't yet a whisper, but came disturbingly close nonetheless. 'The bodies—' his fingers clenched, tightening the grip he had on Akihiko's hand. 'The bodies were—almost entirely disfigured—not exactly fit for a traditional funeral…they're just going to be cremated, and…they're just going to be cremated. Yes.'

He lapsed into silence again.

_Though I hate to ask…_ 'And why exactly did you leave your brother behind?'

'I didn't', said Takahiro immediately, his voice showing signs of life for the first time since he'd shown up on Akihiko's doorstep half an hour ago. 'My aunt took him for the day; Misaki's still a bit out of it. It'll take him a while to understand, so now when we get everything else sorted out…it's probably best to keep him somewhere else…'

He faltered briefly, then resumed, 'I mean, somewhere happy…for the time being…'

The rain hadn't let up for almost forty-eight hours now. The same rain that had caused the death of Takahiro's parents just hours ago. Akihiko glanced at his clock, which told him it was a bit past seven in the morning; he'd rushed to Takahiro's immediately after the call.

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'_Moshi moshi…' mumbled Akihiko into his phone. It had taken him every ounce of willpower he possessed not to throw the phone to the opposite side of the room; the only thing that had prevented him from doing so, in fact, was the caller ID._

'_Akihiko?' The voice on the other end was shaking and considerably higher than what Akihiko was used to. He frowned groggily._

'_Takahiro?' he yawned. 'What is it? It's like six…in the morning…'_

'_I know', came the reply, even shakier this this time. Takahiro sounded completely unlike himself; his voice was frail and tiny in a way that immediately chilled Akihiko's stomach. ' I'm sorry, I—I know it's early, I…sorry…I'm sorry…'_

'_Takahiro, are you sure you're okay?' he sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep off his eyes. 'You're sounding a bit strange.'_

'_Hey…Akihiko?'_

'_What is it? What's wrong?' Akihiko was fully awake now; Takahiro clearly had something on his otherwise happily zoned-out mind, and the change was alarming in ways that few other things were._

'_Is it okay if I…come over?'_

'_Damn it, are you okay? I mean, sure, come over, but what's wrong?'_

'_Thanks…bye.' The line disconnected, leaving Akihiko to stare at his screen and think._

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Takahiro had arrived a while later, disheveled and more than slightly wet by the rain. His explanation had been that he 'forgot an umbrella'. Akihiko wondered, watching him now, how he'd even remembered to change out of his pajamas.

While bending over to remove his sodden shoes, he'd tottered so heart-wrenchingly that Akihiko had steadied his shoulders for him until his trembling temporarily subsided. As soon as he was calmer, though, he'd grabbed Akihiko's hand with feral strength and hadn't let go since. Considering the news he brought with him…Akihiko wondered why he hadn't just fallen completely over by now.

_Takahashi Takahiro…eighteen years old, would-be M University student, orphan._ The thought roiled in Akihiko's stomach as he realized that if Takahiro planned on raising his brother himself, as he had said he would, there was no way he could go to M University. Or any university at all.

He felt his own hand tighten around Takahiro's until the grasp felt quite painful even to himself, and Takahiro looked up from his footwear scrutiny to regard Akihiko with dully questioning eyes.

_His eyes exactly match the rainclouds just now._ Looking at the boy beside him, however, Akihiko doubted these particular clouds had had the chance to shed a single raindrop. He tried to make his voice as gentle as possible as he said Takahiro's name.

Takahiro nodded in permission to continue.

'You haven't cried yet, have you?' asked Akihiko softly, half-hoping that he would be drowned out by the renewed vigor of the storm. He gave Takahiro five seconds before giving in to the urge to squeeze that little hand again.

Takahiro was almost chuckling as he shook his head. 'I haven't had time.'

'You aren't going to have time later', said Akihiko, suddenly stern. 'Don't you think it's best that you let it out for good, rather than carry it around with you and look so lifeless?'

The silver-lined orbs widened slightly, then drooped as eyelids sunk over them, but Takahiro gave no other indication that he had heard Akihiko until he found himself pulled roughly into a hug. Akihiko didn't blush, not for a second, as he placed his chin atop the sleek dark hair and held the other boy close.

'You have time now', he muttered, just loud enough to be heard over the rain. He felt hesitant hands rise to his back and all at once Takahiro was clutching at him like his sanity depended on it. Akihiko thought of the life his friend had led, thought of the change that had forced itself upon him overnight, and realized how untethered he must feel.

_Change._

'That's right', he found himself whispering. 'Just hold on.'

A realization feathered its way into him like smoke; that if he planned to see the Takahiro he had known and loved—yes, maybe loved—ever again, he would have to let his friend hold on for a very long time. And that no matter what—no matter how hard Takahiro tried to walk beside Akihiko again, he would inevitably find himself carried. The thought soothed him and terrified him in its certainty that things would never be the same now.

He was _certain_ that something had changed.

_Change._

As Takahiro relaxed into the embrace and his shoulders began to shake, a hand was placed on the back of the blue-black head and soon, his ear was directly beside Akihiko's heart. _Here's the change, _Akihiko's mind was saying.

His heart was saying, _let him listen to my heartbeat and know that I'm alive, and I'm still there._

His heart was saying,_ let him hold on to me for as long as he needs, for longer, even, for as long as it takes to put that smile back where it belongs._

His mind was saying, _I am in love with Takahiro._

His lips had nothing to say; they moved soundlessly, wordlessly, sightlessly. They mouthed things that Akihiko did not understand and ghosted empty words over the ears of the boy who was now sobbing in his arms. His hands were numb against the fabric of Takahiro's shirt as he lowered his eyes, then closed them completely.

The rain crashed down around them and he heard nothing else.

He tasted nothing besides the predictably bittersweet afterglow of resolution.

He smelt nothing but the acrid vacancy left by a destroyed spirit.

As he held Takahiro, he shut off his senses, one by one, until nothing was all that remained for him to perceive; in his splendidly agonizing isolation, though, his heart still pounded against his ribs and he _knew._ And the aftermath of such knowledge was less exultant than it was frightening.

If tears were sliding down his own face into Takahiro's hair, he would never bring himself to admit them.

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Sometime in the unanchored hours between Takahiro's departure from his house and the closing of another day, his hand had crawled over to his phone and the digits materializing on his screen pieced into Hiroki's number. The reception, still shaky, aged Hiroki's voice by about twenty years as the growly 'moshi moshi' crackled over the line. Akihiko shivered involuntarily, remembering how similar the previous night's call had been.

'_Mom and dad are out tonight...'_

'Hiroki?' Akihiko's voice was slightly hoarse from lack of use, but otherwise unnervingly calm. His words, however, contradicted his tone in the most magnificently unprideful manner as he found himself sitting upright in bed, clutching his phone with both hands now and trying to bite back the panic.

'Hiroki, that is you, isn't it?'

'Yeah, why wouldn't it be me?' Disoriented and dazed as he was, Akihiko could nonetheless hear the sneaking concern in Hiroki's voice. It sprayed over his jagged edges and eroded much of his seemingly motherless tension. _Hiroki is still the same. Hiroki hasn't changed yet._

He shook his head, then chuckled blearily. 'Nothing. Just…feeling weird.'

'Weird? Tell me about it', came the reply. 'Guess where I am now.'

Akihiko was in no mood to guess at anything anymore. 'Got to pass.'

'I'm in Tokyo. I moved my stuff this morning, and mom should be coming tomorrow to drop off the things I forgot.'

Akihiko was unable to reign in his surprise, even through his haze of half-formed emotion. 'Why the hell would you move already?' he asked slowly, voice so normal it stunned him. 'I thought you were supposed to stay for the weekend?'

'I was', grumbled Hiroki, 'but I've got absolutely nothing to do. Hah, beat that—for once in my life I have all the time I'd like and not a fucking thing to do with it. I figured it'd be easier if I just came already. Have to at some point, and at least I know you're here too. Back home I've received enough advice about living alone that I could write a manual about it. This has gotta be better. No one to bug the pants off—'

'Hey, Hiroki', said Akihiko suddenly.

'What?' Hiroki was petulant now; it wasn't often that Akihiko interrupted him.

Despite the knowledge that still roared hungrily within him, Akihiko hesitated before speaking for several reasons.

_If I say this now, it'll become true._

_If I tell him, I'll finally have moved. Moved completely and correctly away from inevitable disaster._

_If I say it out loud, I'll be confirming that I might very well be walking into another disaster now._

_If I don't tell him…_

_I will break._

The fear was bending him in half.

'Hiroki, I'm in love with Takahiro', he didn't say, finally. Not immediately at least. Frantically sweeping his turmoil into a distant corner to keep it at bay for just a while, he instead asked what he'd inexplicably wanted to for years now—'Hiroki, have you ever been in love?'

The silence was deafening.

'No', came the reply then, neither too quickly nor too late. 'Why do you ask?'

'Because I'm in love with Takahiro', Akihiko whispered, and his finger snaked to the 'Disconnect' button and pushed gently, completing the last move he needed to make.

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**A/N: Okay, been a while, please review, yakkity yak yak. But what I actually need to address here is that most of you, I'm sure, have by now realized that this story will ultimately climax (in more ways than one, fufufu) with the blindfold scene (not that I won't have a few epilogue-ish chapters after that). Now considering that said scene is not only going to be my very first lemon, but a highly handicapped and sensitive lemon at that, if it doesn't make like the Fourth of freakin' July I'm going to go hibernate in the Himalayas. Therefore I shall need lots, and by that I mean LOTS of input in advance. Any insights of your own on what might have transpired in that scene are highly welcome, and I will most probably be using like 99% of them because at this point I swear to God I'm freaking out. Help. Please.**

**On a side note, has anyone noticed that the ^ character used in the smiley '^_^' is the Hiragana for the sound 'he'? If you read it Japanese-style the emoticon could be interpreted as laughing. So cool, I think I just fell for the Japanese a little more.**

**(And as an afterthought…did no one get what Hiroki was talking about with his 'underwear-less' plans? :P)**


	15. Tokyo at Three

_Tokyo At Three_**  
**

**A/N: Just wanted to say that my choice of salmon-flavored crackers in this story is actually a reference to Cerberus Revised's Full Moon Typhoon, where Hiroki uses the snack to try and train a newly human!Nowaki. That story has honestly got to be my favorite on this entire website and it doesn't even have a lemon in it so far (heck, Inu Nowaki can't even stand upright yet), but I still love it to bits so yeah. As she says in her summary, please give it a go :)**

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Akihiko's phone had beeped with a single message after that, from Hiroki:

_I see._

He'd expelled a short, sharp breath through his nose that was neither a laugh nor a snort, and most certainly not a sigh of relief. Then he'd risen from his bed after what felt like days and finally eaten something. When he somehow found a bag of salmon-flavored crackers in his supply of food (the purchase of most of which had been supervised by Tanaka), something in him had finally snapped and he'd burst out laughing.

Then he'd walked around his new flat for hours, randomly running his hands over everything he owned as though he'd woken from a dream—which, in a manner of speaking, he supposed he had. His sometimes disturbingly sharp memory had never allowed his vision of taking Hiroki while saying Takahiro's name to fade away completely…and what he'd heard Hiroki say in his sleep shortly after that, in light of what had really just happened, seemed horrifyingly amusing.

And then he'd peed and had a shower and changed into his pajamas for bed, and now…

The phone was ringing again.

Akihiko honestly didn't know whether to laugh or cry. _This wretched instrument is going to be the death of me._ He decided that he'd take one look at the caller ID, disconnect, and text them saying he was busy.

_What else is the phone going to bring me now…_

The person on the other end, however, seemed relatively safe; so safe in fact, that Akihiko was surprised into taking the call before he knew what he was doing. His mind craved some semblance of normalcy now in his disoriented and freshly lovestruck situation, and it was with considerable gladness that he heard Isaka's voice.

'Akihiko, in Tokyo already?'

'Yeah', said Akihiko, and for the second time that evening, was surprised at the calm in his voice. 'But, um, if it's about the manuscript…I haven't really been able to write for a few weeks now…' _Hang on, weeks?_ 'Oh, I mean days. I haven't written for two days.'

_It's really been just two days._

Isaka chuckled. After hours of emotional upheaval and the sound of his own nerve-wracked expulsions of mirth, listening to this entirely genuine laughter introduced a warm pinprick of light into Akihiko's heart.

'Akihiko, relax. This isn't peak season, and I understand you've been moving your stuff—this wasn't for work anyway, it's just that I was wondering how you were holding up here. I mean, Tokyo's not what you're used to, is it? Aren't you feeling a bit lost?'

There was a casual sort of interest in the inquiry; the strongest sentiment, outside of that one order to get his books published, that he'd ever heard Isaka address to him. An absurd rush of affection for the man whooshed through Akihiko and he smiled. 'Well, I'm not as lost as I might have been, Isaka-san', he said casually. 'I've known a boy from the city for a few years now, and he's shown me around several times.'

'Oh, is that so? Anyone we might know?'

_Who's we, now?_ 'I don't really think so, Isaka-san.'

'Ah, well. You should be fine, then. Try not to let university get to you too much. Nothing shows in your writing like mental strain, you know.'

_You don't know the half of it,_ Akihiko thought wryly, remembering the circumstances under which he'd befriended the gushing hero-worshipper that had been Takahiro. In yet another epiphany, he realized that changes had been taking place all along. _He stopped with that act long ago…though so gradually that I didn't realize._ Of course he would, once acclimatized to Akihiko's ways.

_To wait for one big change all these years was downright stupid of me._ Had he really loved Takahiro all along, then?

'Akihiko?' Isaka's voice cut into his thoughts with much-needed currency. 'Are you still there?'

'Yeah, I am', said Akihiko quickly. 'Sorry, I guess I kind of spaced out. It's just…been a long day.' As he said this, he suddenly felt very, very tired.

'Well, get some sleep, then', said Isaka indulgently. 'If things are getting overwhelming, though, you might want to get out and do some exploring tomorrow. It always helps to find one place where you feel comfortable, and that doesn't necessarily have to be your own apartment.'

'I'll keep that in mind', said Akihiko, though privately adding that the only way he would leave the house was if his flat got flooded by the rain. 'Good night, Isaka-san.'

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_The hell's up with this rain?_

The lime green display of his phone slid in and out of focus. _2:05 a.m._ Akihiko groaned. While the rain wasn't exactly crashing down anymore, the almost gentle pitter-patter all around was equally debilitating in terms of letting him sleep. A soft, apologetic flash of lightning would whiten his room every few minutes, further adding to his irritation, and tired though he was, his body was simply not easing up enough.

He had a feeling he knew why, too.

_The last time I slept through rain…_

He snorted at himself. _If I'm traumatized just because I was woken with some bad news, I must be getting younger everyday._ It was unnerving to find himself so jittery for something like this when…Akihiko smiled wryly into the lightning-streaked darkness…_when even Edward could only disturb my body and not my mind._

_I really am in love, _he noted distractedly, _if this has me more worked up than Edward had._

It had been years since he'd last thought of Edward, and he found himself doing so with no fear at all. The only other time he'd faced those memories with strength was one that he remembered perhaps a little too clearly.

_That day when I realized Hiroki was my friend…was it really only a week before I kissed him?_

He'd pushed Edward away from his peace of mind with such unflinching surety that he hadn't even realized how different the feeling was. _I was too focused on Hiroki…too relaxed and happy in my secret place. Our secret place._ Without noticing, his own secret place had soon come to comprise not only the clearing itself, but Hiroki's presence there as well.

Isaka's words still trudged through his subconscious…Akihiko wondered, suddenly, if Isaka knew where Akihiko had gone that day for refuge after his stories had been read so unashamedly. _Submit this to a publishing house…_despite the almost immediate success of Akihiko's books, though, it had nonetheless taken him a while to trust the man completely.

Now, after the man had proven himself as a person as well as a professional, Akihiko wondered whether Isaka unwittingly understood everything about him. The thought was almost funny in its irony—all that trying not to let anyone invade his personal bubbles, and he'd probably been mapped out by someone who knew next to nothing of his heart. _Did he ever have a secret place of his own?_ Akihiko found himself imagining a library, or an enormous flat bursting with books. _Then again, it's not like I know much about him either._

The rain eased up further, but the not-quite shower was doubly unsettling. Akihiko gave on sleep altogether and sat up in bed with a sigh.

Then an idea that had nothing to do with writing occurred to him.

_I might as well try and find my secret place now._ He smiled grimly to himself; it would be his first solo adventure in Tokyo, and on a very inhospitable night at that, but the thought was insanely appealing to his normally flighty mind and idle body. _If I get some physical activity done, maybe I can get my mind to relax while I'm at it._

The rain now seemed unable to make up its mind, alternating between heavy crashes and near-caressing drizzles. Akihiko scowled and then laughed harshly. _Settled. No way can I sleep through this orchestra._

_And, _he thought on a whim as he made his way to his closet, _I won't take an umbrella._

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At the precise moment he stepped out of his apartment complex and outside onto the sidewalk, it was raining quite moderately. Akihiko held a hand up, palm skywards, and let the drops dive onto his skin, diamond-like in Tokyo's ever-present lights.

_Lights._

Akihiko looked around him with a fascinated grin. _It's two-thirty in the morning, and there are still lights all around._ The added sparkles of the silvery rain gave him the vague impression of daytime with a dark sky.

_Is there such a thing?_

_Well, if not…I can always write about one._ He laughed gently at the long-lost sensation of cold seeping through his clothes; he'd dressed lightly in spite of the weather, seeing as he pretty much _wanted _to get wet.

It was all he could not to whoop and splash around in the puddles. As he begin walking in an undecided direction, the thought that his childhood was coming to him rather belatedly kept niggling at his mind until he faced it head-on and said yes, he was turning into a kid again. _Only this time, I'll do it right._

_This time, even if it is only for tonight…I'll be a kid the right way._

_No Edward._

_No England._

_No Haruhiko._

Without Edward, he thought, he wouldn't have to wish _no Hiroki._ But as a car whizzed past him on the rain-slicked road, for one gut-chilling instant he did wish _no Takahiro._

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

He was having the time of his life, admittedly, but at a quarter to four in the morning he finally admitted that he was also _freezing._ Not to mention hungry, lost, dripping wet, and utterly exhausted. A stubborn smile still played on his lips as he sat on a kerb outside a convenience store's overhang, not caring if he looked like a bum, and stuck out a hand to still feel the rain.

'Don't you get tired of it already?' he asked the drops at length, only acknowledging in the back of his mind that he must look somewhat deranged. 'You've been coming down for, like, what—almost three days now? You'll flood Japan, I tell you, and we're only an island, it should be a piece of cake. Speaking of cake…' he sighed ruefully, not allowing himself to look at the store behind him. Besides his phone (which, with rare presence of mind, he'd put in a watertight pouch before slipping into his pocket), he was completely empty-handed.

He didn't regret it, though, he decided. _I'll sit here till the rain stops if I have to. I'll find some way back after I know I won't get any wetter._ Then, rather uncharacteristically, _I'm Usami Akihiko after all._ He giggled alarmingly and brought the rain he'd collected in his hand to his lips. _Dear Ame-san, the Great Lord Usami drinks to your health. But please control yourself until I get home._

_Control yourself until I get home?_ Bad sex pun, he decided, and his giggles only intensified, harmonizing with his shivers. He was lost in a city he barely knew and sitting like an idiot next to a random store…_I wonder whom they'll phone if _I _die on the road?_ Even the thought of Takahiro did not twinge; drained, though exhilarated, as he was, he felt far too numb. Both inside and out.

_As long as I have my phone, though, I know I won't get completely lost…even if one of my friends is currently in a soup—ah fuck, I'm hungry—and the other one is…voluntarily out of the question for now._

He frowned at this and asked himself just _why_ Hiroki was out of the question, decided he didn't know—just knew he _was_—and concluded that, if the worst came to the worst, he could always call Isaka. _Seems to know me better than he knows himself anyway, he should understand. Like it wasn't his advice that got me here in the first place._

The thought that he had _some_ way of returning cheered him up a great deal—so much so, that he actually found himself wanting to go on a bit more. _The later it is,_ he justified, _the closer it'll be to an actual waking hour and the less likely I'll be to disturb Isaka…_hell, who was he kidding? Now that he'd found the exit, he wasn't planning on using it anytime soon.

Without thinking, he tried to push himself into a standing position by using the sidewalk as support—and promptly skidded in mid-rise. He landed on his back with a sharp, wet slap against the concrete, magnificently winded.

And with his head against what felt like somebody's leg.

'Hey, watch it', came a rough voice from above him; he blinked the rain out of his vision, mumbling an apology, and met the fiercely hot pair of eyes glaring at him. Violet and russet recognized each other in one stunned look.

'Akihiko, what the hell are you doing here?'

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**A/N: All right…just what was **_**he**_** (the non-Akihiko person) doing outside at four in the morning? Reviews are welcome…*hint* and I guess it's best to announce here that, with much regret, I am going to have to change my pen name. This alias of mine is one that I use practically everywhere on the internet, including social networking sites, and my family is too familiar with it for my comfort. My stories are only going to get thicker from here and not everyone related to me, least of all my mother, is broadminded enough to accept the notion of yaoi. I Googled myself this morning and, to my horror, the first thing that popped up was my FF account, so…yeah. :( I love this name, and honestly I'm planning to make it my real name after I'm old enough (because it's pretty close to my current real name anyway), so I'm going to be sorry to see it go. Nonetheless…you may find me now as Ego And Psyche. (And yes, the 'ego' is for 'egoist'. Hehe.)**

**Ame = rain.**

**Thank you so very much for the reviews, everyone, on this piece as well as on **_**Always You.**_** I'm planning an Egoist lemon but won't give away details just yet. :) Sadly, it's NOT going to be a roleplay based on the Junai novels (because Hiroki was technically hinting at that in my fic!)…it's a canon scene but with a twist (because I seem to handle canon better than original stuff right now…). Stay tuned, and love you all. :D**


	16. Heat

_Heat_

**[A/N] Thank you for those lovely reviews, x :* I've addressed them in detail at the bottom. And seriously. The rest of you guys are like dead or something, I suppose? JumpingInJoy, thanks for the alert, and hope to hear from you sometime…**

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_4:12 a.m._

'Here.' Hiroki's voice sounded rather thicker than usual.

Akihiko was seated at the table, still slightly dazed, when a bag of something rustly was thrust into his hands. He peered down disinterestedly.

Salmon-flavored crackers.

_Why did he bring me here?_

'Is this all you've been eating since you got here?' he asked Hiroki, who was shuffling around his kitchen trying to heat water. Hiroki's shoulders rose and fell with equal listlessness. 'Maybe. You want coffee or something?'

'I prefer soup', said Akihiko dryly, 'if you've got any.'

Hiroki simply nodded, face to the stove, and began opening cupboards in search of only he knew what. Akihiko watched his friend potter about and chewed on a cracker with a growing sense of impatience…impatience and some rather ticklish feeling that flickered a bit too close to curiosity. It was the first real emotion that had pierced his rain-tempered mind for hours.

_Why did he bring me here?_

Hiroki, after that first question, hadn't waited for an answer. He'd picked Akihiko up off the sidewalk with unprecedented strength, pulled him under the umbrella he was using, and walked him straight for three blocks until Akihiko asked where they were going. Hiroki'd snapped, 'My house. Where else would I take you at this time of night?'

Maybe it had been because of the rain-stroked chill in the air, but Akihiko had found Hiroki's face strangely pink. He'd nodded his assent and added, 'Oh. Thanks.'

_Why?_

And there had been silence all the way back until the crackers.

Hiroki's flat was a bit smaller than Akihiko's…and bursting with books. They towered to the ceiling in disorganized stacks and tottered out of shelves that had clearly been intended for other things. They peeked out of unopened boxes. Crawled under the chairs. _Feels like heaven,_ Akihiko laughed to himself, wondering if one of the reasons he felt so uncomfortable in his own apartment was because of the sudden decrease in his own books.

'Messy flat', he said presently.

'Yeah, well, home science wasn't one of my several hundred classes', muttered Hiroki from the kitchen. It was now evident that he'd been searching for instant miso soup; the aroma filled the air and Akihiko felt his hunger double insanely, peaking when Hiroki added, 'and mom's coming today, she'll help with my unpacking and everything.'

Akihiko chose not to reply to the last comment, shivering in response instead. He was still wearing his wet clothes, and though the apartment was far from cold, the sodden fabric clung to his skin and effectively insulated him from the warmth.

_Why did he bring me here?_

Right on cue, Hiroki said, 'you might want to change out of those clothes while the soup gets ready.'

'Change?' Akihiko asked ruefully. 'Like I'll fit into your clothes anyway.'

'It's only until your own stuff gets dry', said Hiroki, impatient now. 'Hang them over the radiator and go get a pair of shorts or something from my bedroom. All my clothes should be right outside.'

Akihiko stood meekly, the prospect of getting out of his freezing garments too inviting. 'Yes, mum', he mumbled with a smile in his voice as he made his way to Hiroki's bedroom.

_Why…_

As expected, the room was stuffed with books, most of which Akihiko recognized from all the years of exchanging they'd done; Hiroki never seemed to throw books away. Akihiko wondered, as he picked out a pair of khaki knee-length at random, if _Attack of the Bear-Shaped Aliens_ might not be in one of those piles. The thought pulled a soft laugh from him and, without thinking, he raised the shorts he was holding to his nose and breathed deeply.

Hiroki still smelled the same; fresh and pure and earthy and something that was indefinably _Hiroki._ Akihiko's laugh ebbed naturally into a smile as he pulled the shorts on.

'_Ah, Hiro-chan's pajamas are just the right size for you, Akihiko-kun!'_

_Funny, but I can't remember just when I grew taller than him. One day I was his height and the next time I noticed, I just wasn't._

'Hey, Hiroki', he said wonderingly, as he returned to the living room, slinging his clothes over the radiator, 'weren't you taller than me when we were kids?'

_Why was he outside?_

'Eh? What the hell kind of question is that?' grumbled Hiroki, who was in the middle of trying to bring the solitary soup bowl to the table without spilling its contents. Akihiko watched him inch his way through the kitchen for about twenty seconds before deciding to put him out of his misery.

'I mean', he said lightly, taking the bowl from Hiroki's hands, which were trembling with the weight and heat, 'you were taller than me when we first met, right?'

'No, I wasn't', said Hiroki with a scowl. 'Why?'

Akihiko grinned at the shorts he was wearing; they reached halfway down his thighs. 'Somewhere along the way, I seem to have grown a great deal taller, so…'

_Why was he outside at four in the morning?_

'Can it', said Hiroki suddenly from behind him, as the bowl finally _clink_ed onto the table. Akihiko straightened up and looked at Hiroki with questioning eyes. 'What was that?'

'I said to can it', said Hiroki in the same dull, thick voice. 'Shut up.'

He sat at the table and reached for the bag of crackers, hugging it to his chest like he would a frightened child. Akihiko followed suit, but not before shooting Hiroki a sharp look that the other boy didn't see; he was staring determinedly at the crackers, rubbing one between two fingers.

After picking Akihiko up—literally—he hadn't met his eyes once.

_Why was he outside?_

'Next time you decide to wander around', said Hiroki, still looking down, 'take an umbrella. You'll get pneumonia. It's unhealthy.'

Akihiko felt the elephant in the room swell until it was big enough to suffocate the two of them. _Like there aren't enough books here to make me feel claustrophobic, _he thought unfairly. _He doesn't want to talk about it. I need to._

'Hiroki, just why—'

'Don't ask', Hiroki snarled—_snarled?_—as he finally raised his head. Akihiko couldn't help it—he gasped.

Hiroki's face was flushed a flaming, fevered red; it was a shade that stemmed from neither embarrassment nor anger. What was more, the color was constant. _His face has been like this the whole time…_horrified, Akihiko held Hiroki's gaze, and noted with alarm that the hazel eyes were rimmed with red too, flashing out from under swollen eyelids.

Hiroki Kamijou was a mess.

'Hiroki, you're sick!'

A look of annoyance lodged into Hiroki's face. 'Like hell I am.' He looked back down at the cracker bag.

'You are!' Akihiko insisted furiously, reaching over the table to try and feel his friend's forehead. 'You must be burning up! Have you looked at yourself? You look like death—you gotta—'

'I don't _gotta_ anything', said Hiroki quietly. 'That's why I told you to can it.' Akihiko looked on with wide eyes as he rose and walked over to the kitchen again, opening the fridge this time. Hiroki pulled out a bottle of water and began unscrewing the cap with the same burning intensity that he devoted to his books; the sight, though surrounded by awkwardness as it was, warmed Akihiko's heart into a little more boldness.

'Hiroki, if you're feverish, you shouldn't be drinking cold water, you know—'

'If I was feverish', snapped Hiroki, interrupting Akihiko for the fourth time, 'I wouldn't want to drink cold water. I do. I'm fine.'

But his hands were trembling alarmingly as he leaned against the refrigerator door, trying to grip the cap firmly enough. His entire body was shaking, in fact; Akihiko began to rise, soup forgotten.

Hiroki glared at him and he sat back down again; whatever had possessed the other boy at present was frightening him now. _So I can't ask what he was doing…I can't ask what's happened to him…_blowing absent-mindedly on the soup, his exhausted brain tried to grind back into action.

'So…where are we?'

'Bunkyou district', said Hiroki tonelessly. Akihiko looked up. _No way._

'Cool…Takahiro said he lives here too.' The words were out of his mouth before he could process them. 'He might be living somewhere nearby', he added softly, unable to keep a note of wistfulness out of his voice. Broken and vulnerable as Takahiro had been when he'd left to sort out the rest of his 'problems', Akihiko was gripped by a yearning to see him again.

_That pale face, that trembling voice…those fragile fingers._ He sighed uncontrollably. _What kind of sadist am I? _Only then did it hit him just how desperately he wanted to see Takahiro again…and couldn't, at least for a few days.

'Yeah, he might', mumbled Hiroki, unreadable. He gave up on the bottle as a bad job, lowering it to his side. 'And I'm sorry if I'm acting funny. I haven't slept all night.'

_Why?_ Akihiko's mind screamed in frustration.

'Hiroki', he said calmly. Hiroki looked at him, and Akihiko almost reeled from the heat of his ever-blazing gaze, but stood his ground as he looked his friend in the eyes.

'Why the hell were _you_ outside?'

_Thud._

Hiroki had tried to throw the bottle at him, but his weakened arm had only sent the projectile halfway. Both boys stared at the light gleaming off the plastic before Akihiko looked up to find that pure venom in the twin furnaces that were Hiroki's eyes.

'I haven't asked you what _you_ were doing fucking six _miles_ away from your fucking house at fucking _four_ in the morning, have I?' Hiroki's voice was loud and unnaturally high-pitched; his face grew redder, his shaking more pronounced.

'No', said Akihiko, bewildered, 'but—'

'Then stay out of my way!' Hiroki yelled. 'I'm respecting your fucking privacy, you fucking well respect mine! Do whatever the hell you want in Tokyo, just don't ask me what I want to do!'

'What—'

'Akihiko', said Hiroki—_this is the fifth time,_ a part of Akihiko's mind noted—'I don't _belong_ to you.' His volume had reduced again, but he was trembling so much he could hardly stand; he braced himself against the platform and turned away from Akihiko's stunned eyes.

'I don't fucking belong to you', he said again, this time no louder than a whisper, and mumbled one more word afterwards that Akihiko barely caught.

'Hiroki?'

Hiroki raised one unsteady hand to his face and took a long, shuddery breath. 'Akihiko', the quivers in his voice pleaded, 'After your clothes have dried…please leave.'

The words swung clumsily through the air. Akihiko blinked.

'What? Why?'

'Just leave', Hiroki muttered, lowering his hand; fresh tears glistened in the harsh glare of the kitchen lights as his shoulders began to shake. 'You can come back later.'

There was an interminable pause.

Akihiko stood again, only dimly aware of what he was doing, and took a step towards Hiroki, who held an arm out in prohibition. 'I'm serious, Akihiko, don't make me repeat myself.'

'Hiroki, you're not well—'

'Stop it with the concern already!' shouted Hiroki, now crying in earnest. 'Your clothes must be dry now, just put them on and get out!'

'But—' Akihiko flailed wildly for something to say. _But I don't know where I live._ Or rather, he didn't know how to get there. What he did know, however, was that he was making excuses. _I could just call Isaka…but I can't leave Hiroki when he's like this._

'But I—don't want to go home', he ended up saying, fighting down a flush of embarrassment, knowing he must sound childish. Hiroki shrugged like he didn't care—which, Akihiko supposed, he really didn't right now—and made his way to the radiator, tossing Akihiko his clothes with what seemed to be far more effort than usual.

The silver-haired boy was in the middle of redonning his jacket when Hiroki let out a low, mirthless laugh. It slicked into the bewildered silence like a disease.

'If you don't want to go home…you could just go to Takahiro-kun's place.'

Just like that, Akihiko snapped. _He brings me here for no good reason, kicks me out again just because I asked him how he found me, talks about somebody he doesn't know…_(_didn't Takahiro do that once as well?_ Some part of him wonders) _yells at me for no fault of mine…_

For the first time since knowing him, Akihiko was magnificently angry at Hiroki.

'I would', he said coolly. 'I'd love to go to his place…if his parents hadn't just up and died two days ago.'

He finished pulling on his jacket and slammed his way out of Hiroki's flat, not caring for the expression on his friend's face. The sound reverberated in his heart long after it had faded from his ears.

_I can't stand him,_ he thought savagely, his footsteps heavy as he neared the stairwell. _It may be just for now, but I can't stand him…and—_he suppressed a yell of frustration with considerable difficulty. _And why the hell do I still have to worry about him—_

'Bakahiko!'

He'd turned before he realized, and Hiroki was standing not a yard away from him, holding out an umbrella.

Akihiko felt his eyes widen with annoyance and half-discovered shame. 'What the hell?'

'Told you', mumbled Hiroki. 'If you have to go wondering around, take an umbrella.' He was looking straight into Akihiko's eyes, and several languages of red were making themselves known on his cheeks, but he stood his ground anyway. 'You'll get pneumonia.'

Akihiko felt the world spin and stop as suddenly as it'd started, and his anger was gone.

He closed the distance between them, and as his fingers closed around the umbrella, he reached up with his other hand and ruffled Hiroki's hair with a faint smile, looking deep into Hiroki's pained eyes. _I wish I could see what's wrong with him._

_I no longer feel like he can see through me,_ Akihiko realized. _When did it become like this?_

'Thanks. I'll call you.' His smile broadened slightly.

'If you wish', said Hiroki quietly, breaking eye contact again as he turned to disappear into his flat. The door shut softly, with no hint of a slam.

For the second time since the previous sunset, Akihiko didn't know whether to laugh or cry as he pulled out his phone and began to dial Isaka's number. _Well, here goes nothing…he's my editor, it's sort of his responsibility to keep me safe, right?_

Hiroki had been his editor, he thought suddenly, before his writings went public. _So is that what he meant by saying…_

What Hiroki had so cryptically said in his apartment had been rendered even more confusing by that last word…it had been added softly and Akihiko was sure it hadn't been intended for his ears, but he'd heard it anyway.

_Anymore._

_I don't belong to you. Anymore._

oOo

**[A/N] Eep, the whole umbrella thing was so Sekai Ichi Hatsukoi…but that isn't what I was shooting for, so yeah. Hehe. And x, I'm glad to have you here; you've got quite the reputation as a reviewer, and I feel honoured by your presence :D The switches in perspective are pretty much my style, though it IS more pronounced for Akihiko because, well, he thinks a lot. And as for the change in tense for the thought bits…well, that's the grammatically correct way to do it, *sigh* because technically a person can't think in past tense, and the italics are supposed to show their exact thoughts so there. I didn't think it necessary to clarify before because no one had an issue…goes to show what wonders an observant reviewer can do. *hint to you others***

**And I got no issues with you enjoying just the Hiroki bits :P those are the most fun to write for me too, hehe…though it might detract from the flow of the story in the long run…**


	17. Building Up

Building Up

**[A/N] Short this chapter is short. And weird. Bear with me; I promise things get a lot better from here, but this little thing needs to be put out of the way. I just feel like these two deserve a chapter like this; I wanted to show that despite their long friendship, there were many things between them that were left unspoken simply because of the way they were. They were pretty unusual friends, after all; like X says, their physical and emotional connections were far weaker than their mental ones. So yeah. Enjoy.**

oOo

Even through the many queer observations he traded with Hiroki the next day, Akihiko did not tell him many things. Things that had simply never been spoken of, and no matter how much Akihiko wondered, never would be.

He found it wholly unnecessary, for one, to admit that he'd thought of his oldest friend a lot after leaving him. Hiroki, he'd thought of Hiroki; hadn't been able to think of much else but Hiroki, for that matter. The reasons were immaterial—worry, curiosity, some unnamed feeling that he couldn't place no matter how he tried—but the effect was nonetheless disconcerting.

It was Hiroki that he had thought of as he lunched with a very different Takahiro from the one he usually saw. The dark-haired boy had obviously not slept, but that was the least of it; everything about him seemed to have aged thirty years. The weariness in his gaze…had reminded him of Hiroki.

'Any idea what you're going to be doing?'

A heart-wrenchingly deadened shrug. 'If I don't get a job within the month my aunt and uncle are going to take Misaki away.' A pause. 'And, of course, it's bye-bye M University now.'

And they'd paused outside Pandasan, Takahiro's voice had been sardonic as he asked, 'Is this some sort of irony?'

While Akihiko had been unable to decode the meaning of that comment—which was rather disturbing in itself—he did know that he never wanted to hear that tone in that sweet voice again. The new Takahiro was already world-weary and Akihiko knew that his problems hadn't even begun yet; however, he achingly, overpoweringly knew that he would not let Takahiro lose any of that purity of mind that he had displayed so freely.

_And I never want to hear him speak in those broken circles again._

_To speak the way Hiroki and I do._

So he'd taken Takahiro's fragile, small-palmed hand in his own and dragged him over to the most expensive restaurant that he knew in Tokyo. There, deaf to the genuinely scandalized protests, he'd paid for a lunch that featured, among other things, Kobe beef stew. The real irony—that his friend was eating the most expensive meal of his life right on the brink of some pretty serious financial problems—only struck him afterwards.

_I'll build him back up._

But he saw no reason to tell Hiroki any of this as he was let into the apartment without question. He hadn't called.

Instead of saying anything, as he bent over to take off his shoes, he held out a hand that was clutching a brown-paper parcel. _Why Some Pandas are Red and for What Purpose._ He knew Hiroki would like this—had known the instant he saw the book in the store, no Takahiro involved this time, thank you—and decided not to mention that it had a sequel, which he hadn't bought.

For the next time I need to use a book as a mediator, he thought vaguely, as he straightened up and noted the familiar content on Hiroki's face as he regarded the gift.

The now upturned eyes asked, _a peace-offering?_

Akihiko threw him an optical shrug by way of reply, not trusting himself to speak. The thought that had come to him that morning, however briefly, now returned.

_I no longer feel like he can look into me._

Hiroki's gaze had lost none of its fire, but—when?—Akihiko was now impervious to any penetrative power it might have. _It's more like __I'm__ the one who can tell what he's thinking…really, when did it become like this?_ Just when had Akihiko become the stronger pillar, Hiroki the crumbling one?

'Thanks.' It was the first thing Hiroki had said since Akihiko's arrival; his voice was as clear as usual, if slightly hoarser. On the whole he looked surprisingly well despite what he'd been like at four in the morning of the same day, though not entirely back to normal. His eyes, among the confluence of burnt-gold, were still laced with red.

It was perhaps this last detail that goaded Akihiko into asking Hiroki how he was, fully aware of how productive said question would be.

'Fine.' _Why did I even bother?_

Too swiftly for Hiroki to move away, Akihiko's hand shot up and below the messy brown bangs, resting firmly on his friend's forehead. He was surprised to see that Hiroki really did seem to be fine. He had no temperature, and there was no sign of the telltale trembling that had wracked his body. _Entirely normal…if it wasn't for his eyes. Maybe he really didn't get any sleep_. He wisely refrained from repeating the question that had caused him to get thrown out —_well, in the end I left of my own will, didn't I?_—settling instead for a credulous nod, as he moved over to a chair and sat down with a lack of awkwardness that he didn't feel as much as he'd have liked.

Two minutes and a staring-away match later, Hiroki spoke. 'Want soup?'

'Coffee', said Akihiko automatically, which caused Hiroki to give a small smile. Hiroki smiling on any given day was rare—rarer the older he got, in fact—and that little pink curve now set off another one of those affectionate little smoke bombs in Akihiko. He'd long since come to the conclusion that it didn't take any sort of feelings for him to perpetually notice that Hiroki was, in a word, cute.

It was with a much more relaxed air that he now watched Hiroki toy with his coffee maker. 'You missed mom, by the way', the cinnamon-haired boy mumbled presently. 'She left just a while before you got here. Was asking about you.'

'Give her my love the next time you talk to her', said Akihiko absently. Even as the words left his lips, though, a horrible thought suddenly crept into him and he shivered involuntarily.

_I wonder how many things Takahiro had wanted to tell his own parents_. _Even if they saw each other every day, spoke to each other all the time_—though he knew that certainly hadn't been the case with his own parents—_there must have been so much left…to say…to ask…?_

Despite the uncharacteristic morbidity of his thoughts, as Hiroki handed him the steaming mug, he could feel some sort of story beginning to brew. _I really am a sadist._

'I'm sorry to hear about your friend's parents, by the way', said Hiroki out of the blue, uncannily apropos. 'What's he going to do now?'

'Work', said Akihiko shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with Hiroki—just as he never did like bringing Hiroki up in front of Takahiro. His friends had somehow evolved into separate worlds for him too, and though it could be tiring to keep moving from one part of his universe to another, he always found that it was worth it to keep them apart._I can't see them together at all._

Hiroki, however, seemed genuinely chagrined at the news. 'Work? That's a shame.' There was a tight lull in the conversation following Akihiko's curt nod, which the other boy broke again. 'Hey.'

Akihiko looked up from his coffee to see Hiroki looking at the floor. 'Hmm?'

'Well—I was just thinking', muttered Hiroki, voice level despite the color on his cheeks, 'You being in love with this Takahiro and all—so you're gay, are you?'

Akihiko considered.

While he supposed the answer was clear enough, he'd never really spared his sexuality much thought, preferring to go along with whatever feelings happened to spring up in him. But when asked…

_Edward, Hiroki, Takahiro._ The three names swirled into some semblance of a realization as he recalled, now with absolutely no fear, those first touches bestowed on him by an elder boy. The greedy lips that had taken without asking, the exploring that evoked completely alien sensations—if nine-year-old Akihiko had been frightened, it was because he hadn't understood, and because he knew that Edward was stronger.

_The fact that he was a guy never struck me as unusual_. So it had been with Hiroki—the fear of driving the other boy away with his desire had never been born of the thought that he was a boy too.

But of course_… __'Akihiko, we're both guys…!'_

It had bothered Hiroki pretty soon, regardless.

Regardless of that fact that girls somehow never entered their conversations. Regardless of Hiroki's increasingly accepting reactions to Akihiko's strangeness, regardless of what the boy had said in his sleep one afternoon at the base, he'd been quite bothered. The heartbeats had told him that.

'Yeah, I am', Akihiko replied, with a shrug for good measure. And then, abruptly, 'what about you?'

Hiroki scowled, then rose listlessly and returned to the kitchen. 'Yes.'

'Yes, what?'

'Yes, I'm gay', snapped Hiroki, returning with a coaster. 'Put your cup on that. The table's new.' He coughed softly. 'Well, like I said, I—haven't been in love yet, so…'

His voice died into nothingness as Akihiko spoke up thoughtfully, willing his voice not to give away too much. 'You don't really have to be in love to realize you're gay, you know.'

'Maybe', said Hiroki stiffly, seemingly losing interest in the conversation; hidden beneath his silence was something Akihiko wished he didn't understand. _You already showed me,_ Hiroki was saying in the new slump of his shoulders_, __that being in love and having those kinds of feelings don't have much to do with each other._

With those two impulsive, compulsive little kisses, Akihiko had shown Hiroki precisely that. And now hand in hand with the memories came the niggling excuse that he often used, with little result, to exonerate himself to his own conscience: _But I really couldn't help myself._

He decided it was time to steer the topic away from these choppy waters for both their sakes.

'Hiroki', he said softly, 'let's grab dinner outside.'

'It's three in the afternoon, Bakahiko.' _And just like that, the moment's over_.

'I mean when it's dinner-time', he offered with a grimace. 'Just thinking. I know this restaurant that's not too far from here.'

'You do, do you?' The question had no vinegar in it. Hiroki, it seemed, had gotten used to Akihiko's 'commoner lessons' with Takahiro. 'What's it called?'

'Pandasan', said Akihiko, and waited for Hiroki to laugh. He didn't.

oOo

But through some cruel new trick of his mind it was Takahiro that he thought that of as they sat at the polished white tables of the family restaurant, and when Hiroki posed the last awkward question of the day—and for many days to come—Akihiko had his answer ready so quickly that he never really wondered why his friend had asked.

Somewhere over the childish sandwiches that they ordered and through a mouth full of food, Hiroki asked if Takahiro was Akihiko's first love.

Akihiko was being perfectly truthful when he said yes.

oOo

**[A/N] Who's back in town? *whoops* Thankies to my incredible new reviewers: Lyrica Storm Wagner, I'm glad you like it, and I'm a fast updater so lucky you :) Sakana-san, keep those awesome reviews coming! Love ya for reviewing every chapter, girl; did my inbox explode with reviews or what? ^_^**

**Slouph, thank you so much for your p r o f u s e compliments! I'm still pleasantly dizzy from those hugs and spins on Daylit Storm :P and I corrected that grammar fail, but is it just me, or does Ritsu say 'Senpai wo suki nandesu' in Sekai Ichi Season 1 Episode 1? Just saying o_O maybe the 'nandesu' makes a difference. Heck, I'm a Japanese noob, so yeah, gambarimasu ^_^ And the usual kisses to my regular crowd too! Next chapter: one year later. And here's something to keep y'all cockblocked for a bit—the blindfold scene is chapter twenty-two. *grin***

**Knowing my OCD with writing, you really don't have to wait that long though :P I might even be doing double updates now, and I also have an Egoist AU in the works; gawd, I spoil you guys a lot, ne? Reviews pleaseeee!**


	18. And Higher Still

_And Higher Still_

**[A/N] Hooray for multiple updates much? So like I said, one year later. Akihiko finds out about…certain things…**

oOo

_Usagi._

The nickname never bothered Akihiko as much as he supposed it should. He was unsure as to just when it had popped up—Takahiro, if he remembered correctly, had remarked once that Misaki was rather curious about the rabbit man who'd become friends with his Nii-chan—but felt more endearing than anything at first, when it had been intended as a gentle jibe, and now that it was practically his name it just felt normal.

'Usagi, steel-rimmed or rimless? Or plastic frames? Half-framed? Glass lenses or fibre?'

'Erm', said Akihiko uncertainly, overwhelmed. 'I don't know, really. You pick them out.'

A year of frenzied writing and the increased pressure of deadlines, combined with his ever-present college workload, had taken its toll. He'd been unable to see the chalkboard of his classroom for several weeks now, and the post-eye checkup verdict had not been a favorable one, hence his new accessory. He needed glasses.

And as he really didn't care what they looked like, having Takahiro decide was as handy as it was touching. The dark-haired boy had offered to help during the little time he had off between jobs. Guilty as Akihiko felt, he told himself that it would ultimately benefit his friend, as they always ended up eating later at places that Takahiro would not have been able to afford otherwise. _No matter what he thinks, I guess I'm the one who's actually doing him a favour._

_Yeah, right._ Akihiko just wanted to see him, wanted to see him at ridiculous hours, wanted to see him every minute, in fact. Takahiro's schedule made regular meeting impractical, and little things like these were what kept the author going—they were what reminded him of why he was in love in the first place.

_It's almost convenient for him, too. _Akihiko _would_ build him up again. He'd sworn it. _Even if one of the reasons is that he has no time for love in this state, and that does both of us a bit of no good._

'Try these on?' Akihiko jerked out of his thoughts to take the silver-framed glasses from Takahiro. They matched the ones perched on his friend's nose so uncannily that he was hard-pressed not to say yes then and there; he made a show of examining his reflection in the oval mirror before nodding. 'Yeah, I like these.'

The prescription was handed over and he was asked to return in a day by the woman behind the counter, who—to Akihiko's blurry eyes—seemed to be sporting butterfly-shaped glasses herself. He allowed himself a moment of mirth before turning his attention to Takahiro. 'Thanks for the help', he said softly, smiling at the shorter boy's outline.

Takahiro gave him his 'ah-it's-no-problem' smile, a smile that Akihiko knew he meant, as they exited the shop. 'So how've you been managing without glasses this whole time, Usagi?'

'I haven't', said Akihiko honestly. 'It's been—I think—three days since I got any writing done, and I can just about see where I'm going so no classes either. I thought it was just a temporary strain or something, but seems not.' He sighed briefly. 'Besides what I'll look like with glasses, I'm just wondering where to hide from my editor until I can see.'

A new editor had been assigned to Akihiko some months ago following Isaka's promotion. His first impression of the woman, who was a few years his elder and pretty if fierce, was that she was someone not to cross. And he'd been right. Though a capable editor, Aikawa Eri was a slave-driver if there ever was one. He supposed he'd eventually get used to her whirlwind presence, but for now he found her decidedly unnerving.

And he hadn't written a thing in three days.

_Well, it's not my fault. And if she arrives at my doorstep I'll tell her as much._ It was nonetheless with considerable apprehension that Akihiko surreptitiously pulled out his phone to check for any calls: he tended to turn off his ringer when with Takahiro.

There were seventeen, all from Aikawa, and three text messages. Akihiko first groaned and then cursed under his breath, bringing the phone closer to his eyes to try and read.

_Usami-sensei, I hope you know your deadline is approaching. –Aikawa._

_Usami-sensei, I've called you ten times now and if you're dying, I expect the manuscript before you kick the bucket. –Aikawa._

_Sensei, I'm coming over. If you're not there I'll wait until you turn up._

'Shit.'

'Something wrong?' asked Takahiro nonchalantly, as they turned a corner on their usual route to the subway. Akihiko nodded grimly. 'Aikawa is so having my head.'

The dark-haired boy's eyes lightened as he laughed. 'Hate to be you sometimes. Seriously, though', he added, scanning the contents of Aikawa's increasingly ominous texts, 'sounds like a problem for you. What are you going to do now?'

'Hide', said Akihiko automatically. 'I'm coming on the train, too.'

Genuine regret showed on Takahiro's face. 'Ah, I'm so sorry, Usagi, but there won't be anyone at my place right now, and I have work—'

'Don't worry about it!' said Akihiko vehemently; going to Takahiro's house for refuge with the boy being as busy as he was had been the last thing on his mind. 'I wasn't going to mooch off you. I'll find someplace to go'—he grinned—'I'm the Great Lord Usami, after all. Or rather, the Great Lord Usagi. That sounds faster.'

Five minutes later, they were on the jam-packed train, pressed together in a manner that was both comfortable and not. The 'not' end of it grew considerably when Takahiro looked up at Akihiko, eyes wide and concerned and _fucking adorable._

'But really, Usagi', he said, 'I'm just concerned. If you're lost in Tokyo, give me a call, will you?'

_And you don't even know how much feeling lies behind this smile of mine…_

Akihiko snaked a hand up from where it had been hanging by his side and gave Takahiro's suit-clad shoulder a squeeze. The somewhat overlarge attire had been the senior Takahashi's, and as much as it had pained Takahiro to wear his late father's clothes to work, he hadn't been able to afford much else (and had proceeded to bawl Akihiko out when presented with a couple of suits anyway). 'I won't get lost', he murmured. _You taught me too well for that._ 'I'll think of something.'

oOo

And think of something he did. Or rather, some_one_.

Hiroki didn't seem to be home, though. Akihiko gave the doorbell one last ring before giving up and sliding into a sitting position against the door. _Much like what Aikawa must be doing at my place,_ he thought wryly. _If she wasn't Aikawa, I'd pity her at this juncture._

And much like him, she must be wondering where the inhabitant had disappeared…because not only did Hiroki not seem to be home (a suspicion that grew stronger with the darkness and no lights under the door), he wasn't answering his phone either. Though he knew better than to worry, and though this wasn't the first time Hiroki was mysteriously absent, he felt a flicker of concern.

_Just because he blows off any attempts to help doesn't mean he can always take care of himself._

Akihiko sighed, rubbing his bleary eyes out of a habit that he'd formed over the months, refusing to believe that his vision was weakening. It had been convenient to believe that it would pass when he'd been too busy with writing to step out of his apartment for days, counting classes and all. _I just hope I can maintain the minimum attendance requirement to sit for the exams._ He was least bothered about studying, only making sure to hand in his homework on time.

_Hiroki, on the other hand…_though they'd both been wrapped up in their own schedules, the other boy had evidently taken to his subjects from the start, devouring his course material with a zeal that bordered on manic. Though Akihiko supposed it wasn't much of a surprise, given Hiroki's obvious passion for reading, but it was still endearing to see him surrounded by and drowning in his books on the occasions he'd drop by.

Occasions that, he realized suddenly, were growing farther apart. It was with some surprise that he registered the little ache in his chest.

_I've had things to do…and a Takahiro to attend to…and books to write…and homework…_

But he knew that he could still, somehow, have found the time. He also knew that finding Hiroki at the bottom of his list of priorities was equally painful.

oOo

He was shaken awake roughly. The voice calling him out of slumber was equally rough, and slightly—only slightly—slurred. 'Oi, get up.'

After his initial irritation at being woken, Akihiko's heavy head first noted the stiffness in his limbs, then his hunger. Keeping his eyes shut, he stretched out first one knee, then another, with a soft groan. _I must have nodded off while waiting._ He was still balled up against the door—Hiroki's door.

His eyes snapped open to a city light-filled darkness and wide brown orbs staring into his own.

'Akihiko, why are you here?' Hiroki asked, his growl more pronounced than usual (_or is it because I'm seeing him after so long?_), his eyes hot and soothing. His face was quite close to Akihiko's, and as he spoke, the taller boy caught a whiff of something so unexpected and yet obvious that he gasped.

'Are you _drunk?_'

Hiroki scowled as best he could in the half-light and stood, pulling Akihiko up by the collar. 'Not hardly, as you can see. And why are you here?'

'Running from my editor', said Akihiko impatiently. 'Never mind that—Hiroki, I swear that's alcohol on your breath!'

'And what if it is?' asked Hiroki acidly, the shaking of his fingers only visible by the light reflecting off the key he held. At least Akihiko supposed it was a key, seeing as it looked more like a firefly to his eyes. The door swung open noiselessly on its oiled hinges, and he followed his friend inside, bemused.

'I mean', said Akihiko lamely, 'you're still below the legal drinking age, aren't you? Where'd you even get alcohol from?'

'I wish', said Hiroki, with a long-suffering air, 'you'd stop saying "alcohol". It was only a couple of beers. And it doesn't matter. Coffee?'

'Soup.'

'Are you sure? You might want to take a look at your watch.'

Akihiko obliged, and his eyes widened even as Hiroki made his way to the kitchen and stuck his head under the tap. 'Hiroki, do _you_ know what time it is?'

'Yes. It's well past two in the morning. Almost half past. You really want soup?' asked Hiroki pointedly, pulling out from the jet of water, completely dripping. Akihiko simply stared at him.

'And what the fuck were you—' he stopped himself just in time, remembering that Hiroki didn't take such questions too well. Though he'd never been asked to leave after that first time, the brown-haired boy's demeanor had undergone a noticeable change whenever Akihiko got it into his head that Hiroki might actually answer. 'Never mind. And yeah, soup would be nice. I'm hungry', he said petulantly. _If you don't owe me an explanation_—which he didn't, really—_you might as well feed me._

'Suit yourself', muttered Hiroki, 'though I think I might need toast. And if you're staying the night, tell me before I pass out in the bathroom. I'm going to take a shower.'

He absently set a saucepan full of water on the gas and turned to Akihiko. 'Turn that flame off if the water boils. But if I don't come out of the shower in ten minutes, bust me out first.' He flashed Akihiko a grin that the silver-haired boy found positively creepy with his newly weak eyes. 'Though of course, I don't suppose you'd like to join me.'

'Uh', said Akihiko, alarmed, 'I'm fine, thanks…and Hiroki, just how much did you drink?'

'Like you care', Hiroki trilled —_trilled_—before turning and heading into the bedroom, presumably for fresh clothes. Akihiko dutifully took position over the stove and stared at where the lithe body had disappeared with wide violet eyes.

For no good reason, that pitiful ache had lodged itself in his chest again.

_And is it just me…or was he limping?_

Was it unsteadiness from the alcohol? The hallway leading to the bedroom had been too dark to say for sure, but as Hiroki's back had vanished, Akihiko could have bet his life that despite his rather bleary vision, the proud, upright gait was definitely lacking its usual rhythm.

He was not sure why his chest hurt even more at the thought; whether it was from worry, or because he had seen that beautifully haughty posture for too long to imagine Hiroki without it. He dimly noted that the water was boiling and turned the flame off before picking up the packet of instant miso soup that Hiroki had left out on the counter.

_Nine years, and I still feel like I know nothing about him._ Whether that could be blamed on his own distance or Hiroki's reticence remained to be seen, but he nonetheless felt angry at the sudden clenching of his heart.

oOo

Hiroki hadn't left the shower after ten minutes, so Akihiko was now at the door of the bathroom, knocking warily.

'Hiroki?'

The running water inside was creating quite the din. _Just how much water does he use?_ The image of Hiroki in the shower was oddly stirring, and he stifled a crazy laugh. _Probably concentrates on that too._ What with Hiroki's one-track mind and the roar of the water, Akihiko found himself thinking that he might actually have to break down the door.

He formed a fist with his right hand and pounded. 'Oi, Hiroki!'

To his utter relief, Hiroki's voice answered. 'Yeah, yeah, I'm alive! Be out in a second!'

Akihiko breathed heavily through his nose. _Thank God._ 'Well, I'm done with my soup, do you want any?' he asked tentatively. Hiroki let out a raucous laugh and yelled in the negative. 'Get me toast, you moron!'

'But I don't know how to make toast!' Akihiko admitted sheepishly. The door suddenly opened to reveal an already dressed Hiroki, looking squeaky clean and as cute as usual in his pale blue pajamas. Akihiko smiled fondly. _Yeah. Cute._

Hiroki scowled, 'What're you grinning like a devil for?' He pushed past Akihiko, who smelled toothpaste on his breath. 'I'll go make toast myself, then.'

Akihiko shook his head, smile fading as he noticed that Hiroki's walking was indeed off. In fact, his blurry vision had spared him the worst of it; he now saw with a pang that the smaller boy was also blatantly favoring one leg.

He turned away abruptly. 'Fine. And', he went on quickly before he could lose his nerve, 'I won't ask what you get up to when you're away. But just so you know, you're limping.'

On his way to the living room, Hiroki glanced down at his legs with interest. 'Hmm. Okay, I'm limping.' He shrugged languidly and continued his erratic journey, Akihiko following him with questions clawing at his belly.

'Are you staying the night or not?' Hiroki asked presently as he dropped a slice of bread into the toaster. Akihiko grimaced at the steadily more pronounced hobble, and drew in a sharp breath when the brown-haired boy plonked down on the chair opposite him, only to wince. 'Fuck.'

'I think I'll stay', said Akihiko without thinking, willing the questions not to come out. 'I can just take the couch.'

'No you can't', snapped Hiroki. 'If you're staying you get the bed. Have you seen how fucking tall you are?'

'Yeah, but you're _limping_', said Akihiko, emphasis on every word slow and heavy. 'Hiroki, you're obviously not all the way here—I won't ask, just saying—you've had who knows how much to drink—'

'Satou knows', mumbled Hiroki over the ticking of the toaster.

'Eh?'

'Nothing.' Hiroki glared. 'I don't care if I'm on the verge of death, which I'm not. If you stay, you take the bed.'

Akihiko was sorely tempted to leave just so Hiroki would stop being stupid and get some sleep, but then realized that that would defeat the purpose, and sighed. _I can just pretend to be asleep until he nods off—which shouldn't take long, the state he's in—and carry him to bed._ After the nap he'd taken outside Hiroki's door he didn't feel particularly sleepy, so he supposed it was a good enough plan. 'Fine.'

Hiroki raised an eyebrow and laughed. 'Unexpected. But yeah, okay.'

Halfway through his burnt toast, he added, 'Somehow I thought you would insist a bit more. Moron.' Akihiko looked at him long and hard and miserably, and nodded. 'Maybe I am.'

oOo

At a quarter past three, Akihiko stole from Hiroki's bedroom and tiptoed over to the tiny huddled figure on the couch. Not really caring if Hiroki was awake or not at this point—and too anxious to get some sleep himself—he unceremoniously scooped up the slender body in his arms, very aware of how light he was. Another pang.

Hiroki shifted and mumbled a nonsensical stream of gibberish as he was carried over to the bedroom; warily, Akihiko tried not to jostle the arrangement of limbs and risk waking him. _Everything aside, I doubt his pride could take it._

His arms shifted under the blanket that Hiroki was wrapped in and made brief contact with the thin cloth covering the back of Hiroki's upper thighs. Akihiko realized, with a somewhat ridiculous jolt, that Hiroki was clearly not wearing any underwear beneath his pajamas.

_Shit, this just makes things even more awkward if he wakes up._

It was only as he was lowering Hiroki onto the bed that something hit him.

Akihiko knelt beside the bed so his face was on a level with Hiroki's sleeping one. Not having the heart to pull at his hair, he settled instead for a soft shake of the fragile-seeming shoulder.

'Hiroki?' he said, just softly enough that nobody on earth would wake from hearing it.

Hiroki's arm shot up and batted at the hand on his shoulder. 'You made me take the bed after all', he mumbled. Akihiko jerked back in alarm, then realized that he was definitely still asleep.

'Yeah, I did', he whispered hurriedly. 'Hiroki…I know I said I wouldn't ask what you do when you leave your house like this…' he trailed off to observe the expression on his friend's face, which was still relaxed except for a faint scowl. 'But answer me this, okay?'

There was no reply save a small snuffle. Akihiko sighed.

'I don't know if you remember, but you told me once that you had big plans for college and they didn't involve underwear. Do you remember that?' While he hadn't been particularly curious, the conversation often came back to him at odd moments, and he would find himself wondering what Hiroki had meant. He just prayed now—without knowing why—that it wasn't what he thought it was.

Hiroki let out a soft grunt that Akihiko interpreted as a yes.

'Well, then…you leaving and coming back at mad hours like this…does this have to do with those plans?'

There was a silence. And then Hiroki turned away with a great swish of bedclothes and said very clearly, 'Fuck you.'

And an even longer silence before Akihiko got to his feet. _'I see'_, he echoed. With a gentle smile, he reached down and stroked Hiroki's hair in an affectionate gesture before turning to leave for the couch. 'Good night, Hiroki.'

'G'night, Bakahiko', muttered Hiroki. 'Thanks for the bed.'

_When did he wake?_

'You're welcome', replied Akihiko. His thoughts effectively mushed, once in the living room he tried to make himself comfortable on the couch—which really was too small for him—and closed his eyes, desperately beckoning sleep. _I can't be thinking about this now. I can't._

_Once I get my glasses, I need to make a few changes to my story._

Not an hour later, dawn stole into the eastern sky, and three hours after that, a cinnamon-haired boy with fiery eyes was kneeling at a couch, trying to rouse the occupant. Akihiko did not wake; he could not. He had not slept.

oOo

**[A/N] Yeah, so that's what the whole underwear thing was about, for those o'ya who didn't get it. ^_^ Me loves reviews, so more reviews equals faster updates. Just saying. And faster updates equals faster arrival at the blind fold scene equals faster completion of this fic equals faster publication of my Egoist AU. Again, just saying. So hit me with 'em. :D**

**And yes, the scene where Hiroki wakes Akihiko up is a sort of parallel to Chapter 1, if you were wondering.**


	19. To Watch it Fall

_To Watch It Fall_

**[A/N] K, it's like almost eight in the morning and it rained like hell's fury last night, so nice crisp chill in the air and everything, and I'm…writing. :P Nice weather to write lovey-dovey stories during. So this is straight to the chase now: Akihiko's and Hiroki's senior year at university, just a few days before the blindfold. Expect chapter twenty-one by this evening, I suppose, but twenty-two I'm purposely keeping till tomorrow just to blueball you guys ^_^ I'm not usually a tease, so I deserve my fun, don't I?**

**Soundtrack for this chapter – First half (the Hiroki half): Issho ni Itai, SIH OST. Second half (Takahiro half): Shunjun suru Kimochi, SIH OST. That Anze Hijiri is a g-e-n-i-u-s. (Is it weird that most of the better tracks in the SIH OST never actually make an appearance in the anime?)**

oOo

'_Usagi? Hello…what's up?'_

'_The usual.' Pause. 'You free now? We could go drinking or something.'_

'_Erm. Well, I don't have work just now, they let me off for the weekend, but something's come up anyway…can we make it this evening?'_

'_Sure thing.' Smile. 'Just call, I'll be there. No, wait. I'll be at the train station. Sounds good?'_

'_Good enough.' And fire and ice in his stomach as he heard, 'And I have something I want to tell you, too.'_

oOo

The (admittedly overblown) nervousness hadn't subsided in two hours, and too jumpy to write a word, Akihiko had fled to the place where he'd repeatedly found solace…to his new secret place. The place that called out to the submerged parts of him when he found himself flailing, only to provide him with an odd, almost unintentional comfort. The place that, like the base at his family home, he had come to associate with books and heat and beauty

And Hiroki.

'Akihiko, why the hell are you here?'

_I should be asking—why the hell _weren't_ you here?_ He knew the answer, though. He'd known for years now why Hiroki sometimes returned to his flat after an entire night of unreachability. He kept his eyes on the book he'd been trying to read and replied cagily, 'Taking emergency refuge.'

Hiroki snorted as he unlocked his front door and left it open for Akihiko to follow. 'Geez, you're horrible for doing this every time. How about actually meeting your deadlines for once?'

_I wish it were that easy,_ Akihiko thought wistfully. 'Enough', he muttered. 'If I can't write, I can't write.'

It had been a while since he'd done this last, he realized, looking around the book-_infested_ flat with something akin to nostalgia. _And if it weren't for Takahiro I wouldn't be doing it now either,_ something in him whispered. He blew it away with an external shake of his head as though trying to ward off flies.

Books…he ran a finger up the spine of the topmost book on a pile that close to him, relishing the dry-grass feel of the color-coded tabs sticking out at intervals. _The book of a student, not just a reader._ He knew, as his finger ruffled through neon green and yellow and blue paper strips, that if he opened the book he'd find Hiroki's spiky Kanji crammed into every available space, spontaneous as his thoughts and just as valuable.

But since he would never say that, he just sighed, 'Your apartment is as messy as ever.' The roiling in his stomach had already died down, and as they neared the bedroom, he suddenly felt rather sleepy.

'Shut up', Hiroki snapped. 'By the way, hurry up and return those books I lent you.'

'Yeah, yeah…next time, okay?' said Akihiko quickly. _Next time? And when will that be?_ He dropped his bag to the floor and sighed again. 'I'm sorry, but let me catch some sleep now.' Hopefully Hiroki wouldn't want to sleep as much as Akihiko did. _He must be at least a little sleepy, though. I don't think what keeps him away at night allows for much rest._

'If you have time to sleep, go finish writing your manuscripts, idiot. Don't you have a school report to write too?'

_And how does he know so much about me…when I still feel like I know nothing about him?_ 'I'm sleepy because I finished writing everything', Akihiko lied through his teeth. 'I don't want to see anyone today; that's why I'm taking refuge.'

Hiroki made no comment, however, as Akihiko slipped off his jacket and tumbled unceremoniously into the bed like an overgrown pet, pulling the covers up to his chin and turning away. 'Geez', the smaller man muttered after a moment of silence, 'Akihiko, go do something about that reclusive nature of yours. What do you think my apartment is for…?'

'Shut up', Akihiko mumbled playfully. And then he remembered. 'Oh, yeah…Hiroki, in my bag.' He'd decided to hold back the sequel of a book he'd given Hiroki a long time ago, despite knowing how frantically his friend had searched for it on learning of his existence; today he'd finally felt like relenting, as he supposed he wouldn't need to use a book as a peace-offering again. _I'm just careful not to set him off._

There was a rustle of bags and paper and an unprecedented squeal. 'Whoa! Where'd you get this? I thought I'd never be able to find it!'

'I wandered into a used bookstore and happened to see it', Akihiko replied, conveniently omitting to mention that this incident had taken place almost four years ago.

'Awesome!' Hiroki breathed. 'Thanks!'

Then, 'how much was it?'

_What?_

'Don't worry about it', he almost snapped. 'It's yours.' A pause. 'For giving me refuge.' _For being part of my secret place. For _being_ my secret place. Why did you ask…_

Hiroki had always accepted any book Akihiko would give him without comment, and a question like this was…

_But why?_

Hiroki said presently, 'Why don't you just go to Takahiro-kun's place to take refuge? Wouldn't you feel more at ease going to see your _dearest_?'

A brief, terse silence as Akihiko inhaled shakily.

_Ah, so that's why…_he knew he was guilty, he knew that he should assuage Hiroki's undoubtedly wounded feelings, and it did nothing to improve the tact in his answer as he muttered, 'He has family to take care of. I can't go there.' _Of course he noticed that my visits have grown so infrequent…_

_I can never say what I mean when I'm with Hiroki._ Years of emotions swept under rugs and stuffed into pockets had somehow turned all his words into ellipses; he found himself incapable of saying the truth, no matter how simple.

'Oh, really', Hiroki retorted. A _fump_ told him his friend had sat down beside the bed, and would no doubt begin reading right then and there. 'Well—if he's that close a friend, he'd still let you stay over, wouldn't he?'

'…Enough about it. The world', Akihiko snorted briefly, 'revolves around his little brother for him.' He had no doubt that the something that 'came up' was Takahashi Misaki's latest escapade. This was as close to the truth as he could get without admitting outright that Hiroki's apartment was—

'Oh, such heartfelt brotherly love', said Hiroki lightly. Something in the bowstring-taut quaver of that voice tugged sharply at Akihiko's sleepy mind.

_I have to try and say what I really mean for once._

'It doesn't matter', he said softly, 'I actually feel the best at ease here.'

It was just as he was dropping off the precipice into dreamless sleep that a faint growl pierced his bubble like a beneficent lightning streak. Though too close to slumber to wake or even to understand, he thought he heard Hiroki whisper, 'I'll attack you.'

oOo

When he woke up, a sleeping Hiroki was sprawled out on the floor, clutching the book to his chest. Akihiko wordlessly deposited the small, slender man onto the bed. For no good reason—or any reason at all—he pushed back the shaggy brown hair to press his lips to the smooth forehead before leaving the apartment.

_He's just so lovely…_

oOo

'Usagi!'

Akihiko looked up from his book, smile firmly in place but faltering nonetheless as Takahiro drew closer to him through the crowd. Then his bespectacled eyes met Takahiro's equally bespectacled ones clearly and he felt his smile broaden, heart heaving with the familiar swell of emotion.

He snapped his book shut and positively beamed now as they began walking together. 'Where should we go?'

'Ah, um', Takahiro began, voice snagging in unfamiliar places. 'Well, Usagi, there's one place that I wanted to go to—because—well—' a smile that bordered on a grin. The expression made him look more boyish than usual, even in the business suit that he was finally beginning to fill out properly, even past the faint crinkles that traced his face now after four years of work.

Akihiko had counted and noted the formation of each line on the dark-haired—and now slightly grey-haired—man's pure, pale features, and his entire being was terribly glad for the smile. No matter what the reason.

'Because', Takahiro was now saying, smile even wider, 'I have something I want to tell you there. Or rather—show you.'

Akihiko gave him a searching look; the man looked to be in one of his rare-but-growing-more-frequent bubbly moods. His cheeks were suffused with a delicate flush, lending the perfect touch of color to a face that tended to appear heartbreakingly wan—and that smile, that amazing smile, made him look so…

Happy…

_And in the end, that's what matters the most._ 'Of course', said Akihiko indulgently. 'Why not? Take me to this place of yours. What is it that you have to say?'

'Well, say _and_ show', Takahiro said meditatively, biting his lower lip to try and control the grin. 'Ah, let's just walk faster. It isn't far enough to not walk, and it's a nice evening. We need to go this way.'

Their pace grew brisker through the sparsely filled streets and Akihiko realized that it really was a rather pleasant evening. In an attempt to keep his curiosity at bay, he contented himself with slinging an arm around Takahiro's narrow shoulders. 'Is this thing you've got to tell me what's got you so happy?'

'Perhaps', Takahiro replied in a charmingly inept attempt at being mysterious. 'Well, yes. But I'm also happy to see you. _Hisashiburi._' _It's been a while._

_Oh, God._ Akihiko's heart spasmed convulsively. _You…you idiot…!_

'Yeah', he said hoarsely. 'Missed you too. Say, how far is this place?'

'We're getting there', Takahiro sparkled. Akihiko thought of rainbows and the most ridiculously pink flowers imaginable as his eyes lit up further and he added, 'oh, it's right here—just a turn, and—ah.'

They were standing outside a somewhat seedy-looking restaurant that Akihiko had never seen before. He looked a question at his friend, who was admiring the establishment like he would a castle.

'Let's go in, Usagi', he said with another flash of teeth. 'I'd like you to meet my girlfriend. She's a waitress here.'

oOo

_Thunderstruck._

Akihiko had never had occasion to use the adjective up till now, but as he exited the restaurant with after dinner, he supposed it fit nicely.

He'd been thunderstruck, but not enough to stay rooted to the spot; meekly, he'd followed Takahiro inside to a table that his friend seemed to have reserved. There, they were waited upon by Takahiro's _girlfriend_—a petite, frail-looking young woman with long dark hair. _A woman._

_He's straight._

That realization did not jar as much as the thought that Takahiro had found the time to love, even in the midst of all his struggling. _That had been the one thing keeping _me_ from taking matters into my own hands, and just when I think you might be stronger now…more prepared for this sort of thing…_

_Takahiro, I've underestimated you._ He marveled at the realization.

The woman had smiled and served them their food—what had he eaten? He couldn't remember now—with a slight brushing of hands against the dark-haired man's. Then she'd giggled softly at the intentional contact, and Takahiro had raised his face to hers and _smiled._

Akihiko had lowered his own eyes and said, '_Itadaki masu_.'

'So, Usagi', Takahiro murmured now against the mocking breeze, 'what did you think?'

Akihiko could not bring himself to look his friend in the face as he put his soul into his lips and smiled. 'She's a lovely girl', he said calmly.

_Thunderstruck._

'I hope you find happiness with her', he continued, voice almost invisible in the breath of the wind. 'And it's wonderful to see you looking so excited. I'm…' If a soft sob escaped him, Takahiro did not hear it as he was pulled into a brief embrace.

'I'm happy', Akihiko whispered. 'For you.'

As they parted ways for the night, Akihiko stumbled back to his apartment with his hands in his pockets. By the time he'd unlocked his door the left hand had found his cell phone and teased in a sequence of digits.

_The only phone number I know by heart._ An inexplicable sensation of falling was blossoming in his stomach, and he clutched at the phone like a lifeline.

_The only one._

_Thunderstruck,_ he thought bleakly one last time, as he put the instrument to his ear and waited for Hiroki's voice to remind him of his secret place.

oOo

**[A/N] Gawd, I cried. Well, not externally, but something like that.**

**And I am in love with Sakana-san for her reviews. 'Nuff said. (I'd love for you to be my senpai…I've always wanted to call someone that, but since my yaoi craze took over in senior year of high school I could only call my fellow fans 'kouhai' D: ) And yeah, I'm learning Japanese from JapanesePod101 (just add a dot com) and some random sites, so I'm kinda scattered *sigh* ****Oshiette****kudasai****?**


	20. And Crumble to Dust

_And Crumble to Dust_

**[A/N] This chapter? Does nothing by way of plot advancement. And is very short. But it's canon and I have no desire to downplay either Akihiko's or Hiroki's suffering here, so do read.**

**Soundtrack – Koi ni Ochite, SIH OST.**

oOo

Hiroki's face was gloriously awash with color when Akihiko opened the door. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and his hair was disheveled. He'd evidently run a long way.

And he looked like a ball of fire, skin aflame, eyes ablaze, hair innumerable strands of light. His words were the crackling of logs; his breaths, smoke.

'What's wrong?' asked a dumbfounded Akihiko. _I didn't sound that bad over the phone, did I?_ Hiroki seemed to sag under the weight of the bag he was carrying, no doubt heavy with books. 'What's wrong, you say…' he wheezed. 'On the phone…!'

_Oh, right, I got cut off…before I could say anything._ 'Sorry about that', said Akihiko apologetically. 'The reception was bad and the line got cut in the middle of talking.' Hiroki looked stubbornly incredulous.

'What happened?' he insisted, once he'd regained his breath. 'Your voice was different.'

Akihiko gazed at his oldest friend's face, contorted in an expression of raw, bleeding concern. 'Nothing particularly happened', he said evasively. But at Hiroki's flush, he had to ask, 'but what happened to _you…_?'

He looked like fire…like a tunnel of fire. _My secret place._

Concern melted into fury as the man who was already calming Akihiko down began to fume. 'Ran an obstacle race', Hiroki scowled, stomping inside without waiting to be invited, flinging his bag to the ground. 'Oi, bring me some tea! I'm thirsty!'

'Why are you so good at demanding things?' Akihiko asked indulgently, ambling over to the kitchen.

'Shut up! Are you trying to dry me out! Get me the tea!' He could feel Hiroki's glare on his back, and regretted sounding so bad as to bring him to his doorstep, but was immensely thankful for the other man's presence nonetheless. 'Yes, yes', he mumbled, setting out some water to boil.

There was a rustle of pages behind him; Hiroki had presumably begun to read something. Akihiko shut his eyes and leaned into the mental image of that beautiful ten-year-old boy dappled in sunshine and dry grass and green branches, and took several steadying breaths.

'Hiroki', he began softly.

'What is it?' The voice was petulant but nonetheless curious. Akihiko could not find it in himself to smile just yet.

'Today, I went…drinking…with my friend. The one who always worries about his brother.' He couldn't say the name, couldn't _think_ it, couldn't _imagine,_ couldn't breathe…had never suspected.

_Am I dying?_

'What about it?' muttered Hiroki over the gentle, reverent turning of a page. The silver-haired man opened his eyes and swallowed. 'Well, you see, he…'

What if he couldn't say it?

'…got himself a girlfriend.' His words toddled out of his mouth with uncustomary gaucheness, and he felt his entire body droop…_just like his did at my door._ He thought of Hiroki and his secret place and teenagers with dust motes in their eyelashes and tried to still his heart.

Hiroki was quiet for a moment, and then began to laugh. 'So that absent-minded kind of guy can get a girlfriend too, huh?' he snorted. 'What type of girl is she?'

'In all honesty', Akihiko admitted as he poured the tea into two cups, 'I thought she would have been…more intense.' It was true. Before seeing the girl in question, the least of his imagination had spoken of tall, strong women with flashing eyes and ready wit. _Intense._ How much of it stemmed from his belief that he himself would have suited Takahiro well, he did not know. At this point he was not particularly inclined to find out either.

_I'm intense._ _Maybe it was just my ego speaking when I expected him to want somebody like me._

'If you were to confess now', Hiroki was saying, 'It would be pretty tough for you, wouldn't it?' His voice was low and full of a particular sort of intent that Akihiko, dazed as he was, did not catch. He gave no reply as he handed Hiroki one steaming mug and leaned heavily against a bookshelf.

He heard the grim smile rather than see it as Hiroki went on, 'It's because you're always so slow in matters like these, you know…you're just hopeless. How many years of unrequited love has it been?'

It was the strangeness in Hiroki's tone as he uttered the last question that blew some curiously annoyed dust inside Akihiko. 'There is no reason', he said slowly, 'for you, of all people, to say this.' _And didn't you say yourself that you haven't fallen in love yet?_

'Eh! Am I offending you?' Through the apparent dismay, Akihiko didn't miss the mocking edge, and rather than any real anger, all he could muster up was some semblance of wonder.

He ran a glum finger up and down the spine of one his own books; it wasn't often that he resorted to tactics like these, but stroking those parts of himself never failed to steady him from within, even if it wasn't with the same strength that Hiroki usually did. _He isn't really irritating me, even the way he is. I'm just…curious?_

'Um', he heard Hiroki say behind him. Soft, his voice was breakably soft. He turned. 'What is it?'

'You know…I…'

Akihiko's ringer belled through the air; he glanced at the caller ID and almost yelled in frustration. _Aikawa is not the person I want to deal with at a time like this._ Knowing there would be hell to pay later, though, he took the call anyway and 'moshi moshi'd gloomily.

'Hello?' It was Aikawa all right. 'Who's this here? Isn't Usami-sensei around?'

'This _is_ Usami', said Akihiko firmly. _The reception must be really bad if it makes my voice sound so strange to everybody._ Aikawa sounded genuinely incredulous as she replied, 'Seriously? Sensei? Are you really dying?'

'No', he snarled. 'The signal from here's apparently shit. I'm fine.'

'No, you're not', said the editor with an exaggerated sigh. 'Your deadline's in a week, just so you remember. You _do_ remember, don't you?'

'Now I do', muttered Akihiko sardonically. 'Fine, I'll get it done.'

'Not if it means you work yourself to death, though', said Aikawa immediately, causing Akihiko to wonder why she was being gentler today. _Maybe because I'm not actually late._ 'Sensei, you really don't sound so good. Want me to talk to the printer for an extension?'

'I'm perfectly all right…but thanks for offering.' He concluded the conversation as soon as possible, blowing off the woman's obvious concern. _I don't want pity._ He knew that a bad connection was probably only half of the reason for his voice sounding the way it did, but there was no one that he wanted to admit that to.

'What were you saying?' he asked a suddenly dispirited-looking Hiroki. The man shrugged. 'I was going to say, I want that book I lent you back.'

'Ah', Akihiko said vaguely, just about remembering the book in question. _I doubt that was what you really wanted to say, though…_ 'I finished reading that one; I can return it to you now if you like.'

'No need for that', replied Hiroki, not quite meeting Akihiko's eyes. 'It's heavy. I'll come for it some other time.' He shifted almost uneasily. 'I should go now. I just remembered some homework I had left.' Akihiko tried not to let his disappointment show as he nodded; Hiroki went over to the genkan and began to slip on his shoes, frowning in attentiveness. And another little rush of fondness for the fiery man welled up in Akihiko, and he stepped forward feeling better than he had in hours.

'Hey, Hiroki', he said gently. 'About just now…' As Hiroki straightened up and looked at him inquiringly, Akihiko gave him an affectionate _plonk_ with the book he was holding. 'Thank you', he smiled. _I finally smiled._

Hiroki's eyes were wide and gold-brown and hazel and everything in between, a complete spectrum of heat.

'You were worried about me…that's why you came, isn't it?' he asked, voice playful but thick with gratitude that he would never put into words well enough. 'Sorry about sounding so strange over the phone.'

The fire…was doused. Akihiko watched dumbly as the eyes that held his own were shut, and opened again to reveal startlingly fresh tears.

_Hiroki's crying?_

'Akihiko', Hiroki's voice wavered out of control. Akihiko leaned forward, feeling his own eyes widen. 'What is it?' He saw water threatening to temper the heat, and the tunnel of fire was rapidly becoming a tunnel not of ice, but the finest, greyest ash, ash the color of Takahiro's eyes.

The sickening cold in his stomach mirrored Hiroki's face as it drained of all color.

'I…I—!'

The door slammed. Footsteps on the other side died away with speed, and Akihiko was left alone to wonder and feel wretched.

oOo

**[A/N] I fully expected this chapter to be half of its present word count…but I guess I've missed waxing lyrical about Hiroki a bit too much. There's one panel in JE Act 8 where you can see that Hiroki really is crying in this scene. No way in hell would I neglect to mention every single tortured inflicted upon him by poor oblivious Akihiko! Le grrr.**

**So anyway. Just because I'm posting three chapters on the same day doesn't mean you don't review every single one, k? I don't see any of you around except Sakana-san…o_O *sad* considering we're nearing the main part now I expected some support…**


	21. Unraveling

_Unraveling_

**[A/N] Soundtrack – Issho ni Itai again.**

oOo

No one had ever asked Akihiko why he never seemed to cry. _No one bothers? _Or did they all know why?

This was why.

The feverish click-clack of the keyboard chewed into the silence of his apartment, a silence that was rife with breathing and little else.

For someone who had been seated in the same position from seven in the morning to one in the afternoon, there was very little text on the screen before him: one sentence that he typed and erased and typed again, slightly differently, then erased again, then typed again.

The sentence said nothing. There was an unreasoning sweat budding on his face now as he pressed Backspace.

_I can't write?_

Aikawa had been blowing up his phone for the past hour now, so he'd thrown the offending object under his bed without even bothering to silence it. The ringtone that he'd never changed after buying the phone still smoked from where it had bounced to a halt.

His deadline was the next morning.

But the deadline was the least of his worries. For the first time in his life, Akihiko found his words eluding him.

_I can't write._

So there were the tears—fetal now, more frustrated than anything else, but still there. They pricked lividly at his eyes as his fingers tried a different dance on the keyboard. And when the first tiny drop finally crested and fell, he abandoned the laptop altogether and fled to the bathroom, willing himself not to look in the mirror as he succumbed to his grief with good grace.

_I can't write!_

His tears were hot and thick and came unbelievably fast; he couldn't remember the last time he'd cried so hard. Indeed, he couldn't remember the last time he'd cried, period. Never mind crying in front of others.

_Because I don't trust anybody to understand why._

How could they, he wondered through a heaving chest, when he himself didn't know? When there was no way he could know if the shaking of his shoulders was for his terrifying lack of words, or the loneliness that was finally beginning to get to him, or for—

He wouldn't think the name, he _wouldn't even think it_, and he sank to his knees on the bathroom floor with his head in his hands; riddled with sobs of an astonishing magnitude, he was dimly aware that his always-composed self was regarding this new state of affairs with some interest.

It did nothing to dissipate the nauseous knot growing inside him.

Akihiko's face felt red and raw as he fought to breathe, dragging himself upright and over to the basin. The cool water against his face soothed him for all of five seconds as he finally looked at the wreck in the mirror that was his own reflection and was frightened to tears all over again.

_Damn it all to hell, I can't write,_ he thought, doubling up with his head against the silvered glass, breaths sporadic, head spinning. And there was only one reason.

He _wouldn't think_ that name.

_What,_ he asked himself frantically, when he'd calmed enough, _has gotten into me?_

And then he really did think the name, even said it out loud, not realizing the sudden thickness of his voice.

'Takahiro?' It was a question, not an answer. 'Takahiro', he said again, then gasped helplessly, 'Oh, _God._' He clenched his eyes shut against his reflection, clutching at his own arms in a self-embrace to try and rid himself of the inexplicable ache that was steadily devouring him.

This was why.

oOo

And this, in a way, was why he somehow found himself at Hiroki's door as soon as his tears had dried—probably for the next eight years or so, judging by the amount—pounding to be let in, resting his tear-burnt forehead against the cool wood between knocks. When Hiroki finally opened up, thanks to his leaning on the door Akihiko all but tumbled into his friend's arms. He ignored the gasp of surprise that Hiroki had made as the smaller man tried vainly to set him upright. 'Akihiko?'

Akihiko shook his head, struggling to find his footing again as he tried to meet Hiroki's eyes, and looked instead at his nose. His breathing was heavy, like it had been for hours now; he realized dispassionately how demented he must appear. Words hadn't been the only thing to desert him. He not slept or eaten much either.

'I can't write', he whispered, white-knuckled fingers gripping the sleeves of the soft shirt that Hiroki wore. 'I can't write a thing. I've been trying all day. I can't write.'

Hiroki seemed on the verge of loosing a wisecrack—how many times had he already said that while taking 'refuge'?—but thought better of it. Akihiko could have sworn it was because of his eyes, which he knew must be red.

'I see', he said at length. His hands pried Akihiko's grasp open and gently steered him to the sofa, pushing him down, settling him in comfort. 'Coffee?'

'Soup', Akihiko mumbled without thinking. A reluctant, somewhat broken smile spread across his face as he realized what he'd just said. Hiroki was smiling too. 'Good, you're not completely gone just yet', he threw over his shoulder, already walking to the kitchen. Akihiko nodded dazedly and tried to bring his heart rate back to normal, swallowing several times in rapid succession.

The soup was brought to him along with a bag full of salmon-flavored crackers; automatically, he reached into it and brought out six at once. 'Comfort food', he said, marveling at the laugh that undulated in his statement. But it was a watery laugh, and Hiroki sat beside him on the sofa with a look that said he didn't buy it for a second.

_If he did buy it, I'd probably die of shame_. Akihiko felt a rush of gratitude for people who could read deeper emotions. _Unlike_. 'Oh God', he whispered again, his breath mingling with the steam from the bowl in his lap. 'Everything is so fucked up.'

'Tell me about it', said Hiroki dryly, and Akihiko decided to take both meanings of the phrase into consideration as he surveyed his soupy, distorted reflection with growing listlessness. A feeling of such profound desolation had enveloped him that he discovered, with no real alarm, that he did not care whether he lived or died.

'I can't write', he said finally, praying that Hiroki would understand. Begging Hiroki to understand.

The silence said it all.

_Of course he would understand,_ Akihiko thought, the relief spreading glutinously over him. Of course he would, when he'd been the first person to ever read Akihiko's stories. His first editor. His first friend, his first impulse. The silver head rose to look square into tea-brown eyes, which were warm with emotion.

_My first impulse._

Had it been easier, Akihiko wondered, to live with desire for Hiroki or love for Takahiro? _Should I have been burnt in fire or choked in the ash that came afterwards?_

A long-fingered hand was resting on his arm now; he felt the undemanding heat seep into him and fought the tears that were threatening to rise again. Furiously, he blew on his soup hard enough for the rising steam to color his already red face, so the cause of his flush was unclear to an observer.

'Bakahiko', came the dear voice. He nodded weakly.

'You need to get this out of your system.'

The words dug up a memory in Akihiko's jumbled mind. _Get it out of my system…_he remembered a desk of gnarled patterns that he disliked, an examination completed too early, a long, tension-filled story sprawled across the wood for the owner to read and admire.

He remembered, too, the lovely, lanky fourteen-year-old Hiroki with the kissable blood-pink lips, and how suddenly Akihiko had been able to let go of his feelings for him…_though what I did was more like transferring them to another._ He allowed his eyes now to drift over his friend's face and trace those lips again; they were fuller and yet more firm-looking: the lips of a grown man, and still beautiful.

'I need to get it out of my system', repeated Akihiko.

'But I don't know how.'

Hiroki's brow furrowed fleetingly, but he stayed silent for what felt like several minutes before speaking. 'You need release, that's all. You're a man; you should be able to figure it out, right?' Though gruff, there was no edge to his voice, and Akihiko tried his very best to think, if only for Hiroki's sake when the man was obviously making an effort to be patient.

Takahiro's trusting face swam into mental view and he let out a breath as he saw, with more clarity than he saw the book-filled apartment he was in, that silly, _lovestruck_ smile. The eyes upturned and held by a long-haired woman's. He'd seen it happen that night at the restaurant; seen the brush of their hands, the tender expressions.

But now that he'd been asked, he saw more…saw them leave the restaurant together as they must have done several times, saw them enter a modest two-room apartment with inordinately shy giggles, saw the pooling of a dress at slim ankles…saw the rumpling of bedclothes, the erratic jerking of limbs. Heard them.

Smelled them, tasted them. _Them._ He pushed away his soup bowl, repulsed.

_And if it were me there…?_

Akihiko did not recognize the new voice in his head, but obeyed it anyway: he saw nothing, but could feel now. Felt the sweet roughness of the hairs on Takahiro's arms, the thumping of his heart, the sleek cool of his hair…heard the first pain-pleasured cry, followed by another, then another, tasted the salty salaryman's sweat budding on pale, pale skin.

'_Usagi!'_

His chest hurt.

'I need to get it out of my system', he heard himself say again. Though the latter part of his imagining was nothing he hadn't visited before, somehow the fact that Hiroki had asked him to think about it hurt even worse. _Damn it…this pain's the worst part of all._

Until after he'd stopped having feelings for Hiroki, he'd never felt that sort of pain.

'Understood how?' the brown-haired man pressed on, still gently.

He thought he did now, and nodded—he finally saw what it was that Hiroki had been trying to say. _So like him not to be able to say it directly…even if_, something in him added,_ even if he's no stranger to it_.

It was after a while that he added, 'But that—doesn't work.'

_Doesn't…_while Akihiko's only sexual experiences were courtesy his own hand, the thought of intimacy with anybody else was…all but unthinkable; he thought it horribly strange to sleep with someone he didn't love, and was sure of himself as he continued, 'I mean, ultimately I'd want _him_ and no one else, and then—it's—it's unfair.' He didn't know how else to put it, but realized that the whole thing was certainly extremely unfair…to him as well as to the other person involved.

Nonetheless, an unbidden image rose to his mind of a faceless man with youthful limbs and a willing disposition, lying naked and panting with desire on a bed.

_If I were to close my eyes and pretend, would it be the same?_

'You…have you even tried?' asked Hiroki at length. Akihiko tried not to feel the benevolent heat of his no longer penetrating gaze as he nodded obstinately. _I really have._ If not with people, then with his own mind—how different would it be?—he knew that nothing, nothing would ever replace Takahiro.

Hiroki exhaled audibly, then stood. 'I'm tossing that soup if you're not going to drink it.'

'You can have it', Akihiko mumbled, his head now in his hands. He'd lost the little appetite that had fought to remain in him. Hiroki snorted, and the bowl was lifted carefully. 'I actually hate instant miso soup, you know', Hiroki grumbled.

Akihiko heard the unspoken sentence that followed, and a shard of thankfulness for Kamijou Hiroki pierced him. _It's so unlike him to keep it only on the off-chance that I might ask for it…_the thought was yet another sliver of comfort for him to clutch at. He tried and failed to smile again.

_If I don't keep seeing him, I somehow forget that despite everything, he's easy to be around._

_Did I want Hiroki because I was in love with him? _He wondered. _Of course not…that was unfair, too._ _That I no longer lust for him should mean that I feel more comfortable around him, right?_ Somehow, though, it didn't. _He's easy…_but he also stirred Akihiko in complex ways. As the smaller man made his way back to the couch, his friend suddenly noticed that his dignified gait carried no limp today.

That, and the peculiar suggestion that had been advanced, brought home the realization that he really _did_ know very little about this new Hiroki.

_I show up when I please, leave when it suits me._

Anything he knew about Hiroki now was merely stale information gleaned from when they were boys, in high school and before. And…perhaps Hiroki had known how it was going to be? _He never saw fit to tell me anything about himself. He doesn't exactly take the initiative to open up either…_

_Then again…_that pain returned in full force…_I should know how to read him by now, even when he has no words to offer._ After twelve years, he was still shamefully illiterate in the language of emotion spoken by his oldest friend. Only once had he ever found himself able to decipher something of the internal workings in those fathomless eyes…and that had been when only a blind man would have missed it.

_The time he threw me out._

_Well, no, I left on my own—_

He thought, for the umpteenth time, just how cute Hiroki was. It was the first time he'd ever considered actually telling his friend that, but as the words found their way to his lips he suddenly remembered that 'kawaii' was written in Kanji as 'must love'. The thought caused him to say something entirely different and equally honest.

'Hiroki', he breathed into his hands, 'I've used you.'

'What's that?' asked Hiroki curiously. 'What do you mean?'

'Of course I've used you', Akihiko repeated, growing steadily more morose. 'I've been using you in many ways right from the start. I made you correct my stories when I couldn't show them to anyone else—' his voice caught briefly, but when he resumed he was unable to stop. 'I barge into your flat to hide from Aikawa, I make a receptacle out of you whenever I need to talk about Takahiro, I borrow books and keep forgetting to return them, I've almost completely dropped you from my editing process after Aikawa came along…'

He paused for breath. 'I take your bed and your personal space even though you hate it, I haven't visited you out of anything other than necessity for almost two years now—' the last part he realized was true only after he said it; he let out a defeated groan.

'Why the hell do you even bother with me now?' he asked finally, not daring to look up. 'I'm a fucking mess, and you owe me nothing…'

_I'm glad I don't drink often._ Akihiko realized that he would probably make a very weepy drunk indeed.

Hiroki seemed to be laughing, he thought, but it was too improbable, so he dismissed it as a misinterpretation caused by his unwillingness to see. It really was laughter, though: albeit a mirthless one. A growl rolled into Akihiko's ears. 'I bother because I don't mind.'

Akihiko managed a feeble smile.

'And besides', said Hiroki suddenly. 'There's one way you haven't used me yet, and I think you might need this the most.' Before his friend could register any surprise, he slid off the couch in fluid movement to kneel on the floor in front of the taller man; Akihiko looked up, startled.

'What is it?' he asked warily. The gesture was so uncharacteristic that it simultaneously touched and frightened him, even though he knew that it was only to make eye contact. _No way would he ever kneel for anything else._

The tunnel of fire blazed with life as Hiroki whispered, 'Pretend I'm the one you love and take me.'

oOo

**[A/N] That 'must love' thing is true; **_**kawaii**_** contains the Kanji for 'koi' (romantic love) in it as well, so calling someone cute in Japanese is actually calling them 'lovable'. (Source: Translator of the excellent yaoi 'Carp on the Chopping Block Jumps Twice'.)**

**Please leave reviews; without them we're simply not getting to the next chapter. (I can sit on the blindfold scene for as long as it takes…)**


	22. Impulse and Impact

_Impulse and Impact_

**[A/N] I recently got an anonymous review from a reader who wanted to read this and the following chapter... unfortunately the anti-dots review system on FFNet ate up their email ID and I have no other way of getting in touch with them, so this is for you, Dash-san. :3 In any case the flurry of fic deletion on this website appears to be over so I'm probably going to keep these here until it starts up again. If you do find this, Dash, I'd love a little review telling me so. **

**WARNING: punctuation in this chapter might not be what you expect. Fragments and run-ons are rampant, and a lot of sentences don't have full stops at all…not intended for sensitive grammatical purists. Just a reminder that it's all intentional and not a formatting bloop. Having said that, let's begin.**

oOo

Before surprise, before curiosity or ridicule or even scorn could begin to cloud his mind, Akihiko heard a voice he did not recognize.

_He's serious. Do it._

There was no doubt that Hiroki was deadly serious, he thought, as violet and gold-shot russet swirled into each other. He kept the burn of his friend's steady gaze as firmly as he could while his mind sang with questions, questions and meaningless monosyllabic answers, and through it all, the alien voice that surged like an angry thread:

_Do it._

_This voice isn't new_. As it repeated over and over, Akihiko realized that it was merely the buried, but never quite forgotten voice that had spoken to him so often as a boy…a voice that had nearly cost him his friendship with Hiroki several times.

_You're the voice of my impulse._

_Do it,_ it murmured uncaringly.

It wasn't a thread at all. It was a river, a fire-red river that throbbed and rolled in spate as he finally lowered his eyes to his lap. _I thought I'd lost you for good,_ he marveled. _I thought I'd never have to hear you again._

But it had always been there. He knew that now…it had shadowed his every move towards Takahiro. It had ghosted over him when he fell in love, lurking in unexpected embraces and kind words, igniting his desire, fueling his thoughts. _Why else would I never be able to forget you?_ Why else would Takahiro have reminded him of Hiroki in ways so unexpected that he was appalled at himself? _Why else…would Hiroki have been a part of my feelings for Takahiro at all?_ His insistent repeating to himself that Hiroki was just a friend…_that was the impulse too, in disguise._

_If I do this, then, _he wondered, _do I do it for Hiroki or for Takahiro?_

For neither. He would do it—he would pretend that Hiroki was the one he loved, and take him instead—for the impulse. _If I do it, it is only to kill my impulse once and for all—_this dangerous, inexorable urge…_only to stop hearing the voice._

_My first impulse. You were my first impulse._

Sensing that Hiroki was about to speak, he held up a hand.

'All right', he said. His words billowed out like colorless smoke, and he could feel the eyes on him widen.

Hiroki breathed out softly. 'All right…what?'

'What you said', he mumbled, too afraid to repeat it in case he had missed his chance. 'I'll do it.'

He raised his head again to see a strange, strange smile in Hiroki's eyes. 'I see. Then come here.' A hand wrapped delicately around Akihiko's wrist and he was pulled up in one smooth, fluid motion as Hiroki stood.

oOo

_His bed._

Akihiko was astonished at the emotion welling up in him as Hiroki released his wrist on entering the bedroom; making his uncertain way to the single futon, he was unable to think of anything but all the times he and Hiroki had shared a bed before this…as children, later as teenagers, and every morning Hiroki would wake to find himself in Akihiko's arms. _Even as we grew. Even as I convinced myself that I didn't want him anymore._ After a while, he no longer had to make the conscious decision to embrace the boy; deeply asleep or half awake, his body acted of its own accord.

_Impulse._ Was it impulse that drew him to sleep in Hiroki's bed even now? He thought of the particular scent of Hiroki that pervaded anything his friend used, and wondered if he had wanted to be surrounded by the smell if not the man himself.

_You never really went away, did you?_ He asked the impulse dazedly. His knees buckled and he slumped onto the bed, closing his eyes only to open them again. _Why do you insist on staying?_

_Because he's lovely,_ breathed the impulse in his ear. _You've thought so from the very start. And he's offering himself to you…he's offering what you've always wanted…are you an idiot not to take advantage?_

Hiroki had been standing before him, apparently lost in thought; he now spoke suddenly as though in response. 'Akihiko', he said, a sharp softness to his voice.

Akihiko looked at him, his heart pounding a tattoo against his chest. 'Hmm?' it was all he could manage.

'Are you a virgin?'

_Yes? No?_

Would Hiroki still agree to this if he knew that Akihiko had no prior experience?

_Am I?_ He thought of the first time he'd ever touched himself, then the second, and the third…he thought of his dreams, of fire within and without, he thought of just how _much_ he'd wanted Hiroki. Wanted Takahiro. The things he'd imagined and dreamt and wished for until he felt himself bend in two with the pain.

_Isn't virginity just a state of mind?_

He now looked at the slender man standing before him with such heat emanating from his body as to melt them both. _Between the two of you,_ he realized, _I lost any virginity I might have had many years ago…_and Hiroki _had_ been his first experience.

'No', he said.

There was no flicker on Hiroki's face as he nodded slowly. Then in a flash, he had bent and taken Akihiko's face in his hands. 'In that case', he purred, their lips inches apart, their breaths tangling, 'you'll know that we need these clothes to come off.'

Before Akihiko's dumbfounded gaze, he straightened again, hands dropping to his belt buckle.

_He is…Hiroki is seriously going to strip._ Only then did the reality of the situation hit him.

_I'm about to have sex with Hiroki._

It did nothing to deter him.

Something insanely pleasurable began to pool in the pit of his stomach when Hiroki's belt coiled to the floor. The smaller man was blushing a feathery red in the light of the afternoon sun; he turned and walked over to the windows, drawing the curtains, Akihiko following the swell of his hips at every step he took.

Hiroki was now at his shadow-greyed sleeves as he rolled them up to his elbows. 'You need to take something off too', he said quietly, not looking up.

The order was bold, but so incongruously _quiet_ that Akihiko's hands went to the hem of his sweater vest of their own accord. It was soon over his head and on the floor, and he was unfastening the topmost button on his shirt with fingers that he knew were unsteady. He kept his eyes down, his own shyness now rising as he bared inch after inch of his thumping chest to Hiroki.

A hiss told him that his friend's trousers had fallen to his ankles. To Akihiko's surprise—surprise and calm satisfaction—he found himself fully and achingly hard.

_This is happening, isn't it?_

_Of course,_ the impulse assured him velvetly. He shouldered out of his shirt and had begun to fumble with his buckle when a hand on his arm stopped him; confused, he looked up to find Hiroki's face startlingly close to his own. The man had divested himself of all clothing except his shirt, which hung loosely open to reveal a hardness that made Akihiko gasp.

The hand not currently spreading its warmth into his arm was clutching a narrow length of some cloth.

'Just to cover your eyes', Hiroki murmured, leaning ever so closer, so his hair was almost touching Akihiko's nose. He was pushed back on the bed until his bare back touched pillows, stacked high to keep him upright. The glasses were slid off with precision; his eyes widened when both slender hands held the cloth up to his face and began moving in. 'All you need is a blindfold.'

_He's done this before, _he thought suddenly.

What had previously remained as a vague, unimagined certainty in his subconscious now seemed a lot more real. _He's done this. With whom? With how many…?_ How many people had reduced Hiroki to the mess that Akihiko had so deliriously desired to create when he was young?

He had never before wondered who had taken Hiroki's virginity, but as he focused on the eyes before him, he was sure he never wanted to know. _Jealousy?_

_Impulse,_ he snarled at himself, not caring whether it made sense.

Their faces were so close. The world darkened; a knot was tied nimbly, but before that, Hiroki's flaming gaze branded the back of Akihiko's eyelids.

'You can just pretend that it's your beloved "Takahiro" in your arms', was all he heard, and barely even understood, as a warm, pink-feeling softness of lips was pressed to his own.

_I will taste him like a man._

He was spinning lazily, wildly, floatingly. _Nothing else is._ Nothing else but the taste of Hiroki, the taste and feel and pure smell that was now definitely tinted with the aroma of equally pure arousal.

_A cheering-up charm,_ the impulse chanted, unnoticed for now.

Akihiko tilted up into the kiss, gently prying Hiroki's mouth open with his tongue, feeling a purposeful finger travel down his stomach to where his belt was half unbuckled.

_This is a man's version of a cheering-up charm._

The belt had disappeared at some undefined point in his oral adventure; through the flavor that he'd missed—yes, missed—so deeply, above and below the texture of a foreign muscle in his own mouth, heat skimmed over his belly to slip beneath the waistband of his jeans. He groaned unabashedly into the tenderness when a _snick_ and a faint accompanying vibration told him that he was about to be fully exposed.

Hands were rapidly beginning to stoke his hunger for more of this warmth: with a jolt, he bucked up to allow the sliding of jeans _and_ boxers past his hips. It was probably at the same time that his own hands rose to meet the planes of a smooth, firm chest…pressing slightly into the skin's underlying tenderness, drawing a faint gasp from the man atop him.

_It's Hiroki._ It was Hiroki…and it felt wonderful.

It was Hiroki's hands that could be heard fumbling when a _pop_ pinged dimly into his ears, followed by a liquid _slick_ and the feel of lips again, and again. Hiroki's lips.

It was Hiroki's legs that now straddled him as without warning, a slippery heat grasped his cock. Akihiko let out a strangled cry that was gulped into another kiss, chaste and comforting this time. While one hand pumped him in a light rhythm, another cupped the back of his head…steadying him as the taste of Hiroki wove through his panting mouth again.

When he found the blind, sweaty silk of hair, he threaded both hands through it, only to feel the one pressed into his own locks disappear. His questioning touch of lips to what felt like a slim, straight nose was replied to with a curiously smooth something resting lightly between his eyebrows and hairline. Akihiko felt first the bend of his elbows, then the tips of something soft and pleasantly ticklish on his cheeks, a bumping of a nose against his as the other hand left his cock.

Their foreheads were pressed together.

Beneath the blindfold, he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter at the odd intimacy of the gesture; before he could even begin to process enquiry at no longer being touched, a faint moan blew against his lips, and Hiroki's body began to tremble and tense.

_He's…_the thought was rendered incomplete by the sensation of the mattress next to him depressing. _Is that a hand…?_

Akihiko only had a vague idea of what Hiroki seemed to be doing now. _Relaxing himself?_ While he could not begin to visualize it—none of this had been about seeing, in any case—the naked rawness of Hiroki's sounds was somehow, he couldn't help thinking hazily,_ somehow…sexy?_

_Undeniably sexy._ His groin gave a helpless twitch. He'd never used the word before.

Without affording him further thought, however, an arm was flung haphazardly around his neck as his cock was grasped again, at the base this time, and angled with deliberation. Akihiko convulsively fisted handfuls of Hiroki's shirt in his hands when he felt something brush against the head of his throbbing organ—his hands unthinkingly dropped from the fabric to grasp narrow, trembling hips as they began to lower and then

He did not hear his own cry as it swelled from his lips like a thundercloud; did not hear the softer, deeper moan bubbling out of the smaller man whose entrance _he had just breached._ The tightness that gloved his member's head could only mean one thing—

_I've finally claimed him in every way I can_

It was his last coherent thought as more of him was slowly taken into the searing, scorching heat that was Hiroki, and his head rolled back with a second cry. Behind his eyelids he saw everything that ever was explode into shards of light, which bloomed outward into their own explosions, until nothing existed but him and this fire that was finally going to consume him.

Lips were crushed briefly against his one more time and he panted savagely, writhing beneath the heat that had now begun to sink in its echoing entirety around him. Pulsating in time with his heart, with the second thumping that he felt through his cock all the way up to the very tips of his hair.

_Thadump_

For the second time, their hearts beat together.

For the second time in their lives, the two men moved into connection, not understanding, not thinking, not feeling but for the heartbeats that wove through them both, devoid of the words that they so loved as meaningless moans and whispers took over in the interlacing of their minds. _Mine._

Akihiko grabbed clumsily at the sweat-clumped strands of velvet on the other man's head, flailing for support within his untethered ecstasy. His hands rested on the gloriously sticky-soft-smooth curves of a second face; not knowing if the drops of moisture he could feel were tears or sweat, he tried to steady his grip, to assure himself of the undulation that rode him

_My tunnel of fire_

_My secret place_

_Thadump_

A tear-stained face colored alive by the sun, wide red-rimmed eyes, the brown and pink and orange segued into one blazing swirl

Swirls of wind and leaves and sakura petals outside his window as a fourteen-year-old came for the first time; russet burnished a fevered gold; through the wave that he crested he could not but feel the eyes dazzle him when he sucked on the bitter evidence of his manhood; tunnel of greens and grays and raging rain; a four-poster bed and a firestorm in his arms

Firestorm in his mouth and in his hands; sharing of gloves and of lips; two hearts held together in the raging inferno

_A fire that had melted into a tunnel of ice._

A drop of that unknown wet something, tepidly cooled by its downward descent, landed on his chest and pierced the cocoon of passion he was encapsulated in. It was not ice he felt through the rivulets of warmth beading his skin but the wispy, rainy non-temperature of ash.

_What happens after the fire?_

Ash, dawn-grey ash, raincloud ash, steel and doves and stone

And ash like Takahiro's eyes.

_Thadump_

The pace of their movements had increased and Akihiko was now aware, as though from a great distance, of how deep their voices were when they collided like this…how strong the rise and fall of their chests, almost touching as the man atop him seemed to curl into himself with pleasure, then arch.

_How different from what Takahiro would do_

'_Usagi!'_

He could think no more through his own pulse singing in his ears, through the sensation that was his tunnel of fire burning, burning him alive, but he struggled to form one last thought.

_This can never be Takahiro_

Those fireless eyes, the hair that was too dark for the sun, whipped into his mind as he fought for breath.

_Thadump_

He was climbing. A rush of unknown and wonderful and amazingly unexpected buoyed him into something he had not been prepared for; frantically recoiling from all thoughts of the cold, he pulled the mouth of his fire towards himself for one last kiss before he spiraled upward.

'…hiro…' he choked, as the blaze swept him into its arms and he surrendered…

And now the heat was everywhere, in every corner of every universe, swallowing all he knew and was and loved in a new exquisite peak of pleasure he had never known before; his mouth flew open and he let out a cry that he did not understand

_Hiroki_

_Thadump._

He felt his body seize up and with a recurring, all-powerful sense of release, slowly spasm and twitch its way into descent. When he finally began to hear his own breaths in the suddenly stagnant air, Akihiko bowed his head and listened to the soothing harmony of heartbeats that still connected their bodies, waiting for himself to return completely.

_I just came._ A lazy jubilation burgeoned in him, as his new sensitivity marked the novel sensation of his member surrounded tightly by its own semen. _I just came inside Hiroki._

He opened his eyes wide under the blindfold, registering _another_ shrinking cock resting on his low belly. _So…Hiroki came too?_ Confusion streaked into Akihiko's mind; how had he not realized before? _When did he come? I didn't feel it at all—_

_Something is wrong—_

Hiroki was motionless, still impaled, present only through the warmth that contained Akihiko's seed. The taller man slowly raised his hands, which had fallen to his sides; but when he made to touch some—any—part of the loveliness he had now lost everything to, another drop of inexplicable wetness found his skin.

Ash-cool wetness…sweat or tears?

And his breath caught like an anchor, his heart stopped beating, chilled from within as he realized that in the throes of his impulse-fuelled fire he had called out Takahiro's name.

oOo


	23. The Penultimate Breaking

_The Penultimate Breaking_

**[A/N] There will be two epilogues after this, rather short ones but maybe a thousand words each, and then we're done. Thank you for your amazing reviews, everyone. :)**

**If y'all cry, I'd be flattered. Do let me know.**

oOo

After what felt like hours—or days, or several sunless weeks—a tepid slickness detached itself from Akihiko. This sensation was followed by the _fump _of something collapsing, heavily, onto the mattress beside him. And he still stayed as he was, breaths hard and soft and stunned, eyes wide and blind.

_Have I been blind?_

He could not bring himself to turn towards Hiroki just yet as he finally reached up behind himself and pulled off the blindfold.

It was books that he saw first when he opened his eyes to the merciful influx of light, albeit deadened by the curtains and blurred by his faulty vision. Spines of every imaginable color—some patterns that he blearily recognized as his own—neon paper tabs emerging from several and, in one corner, a frilly pink and glowy blue. _The Prince of Bear Planet and the Princess of Underworld._

Akihiko sucked in his breath sharply and turned his head the other way.

Hiroki was curled up on his side, facing the wall, legs drawn up to his chest and held in place by his arms. His shirt, soaked with sweat, hung onto his back in patches; Akihiko gazed at the softly heaving expanse of unveiled skin for a long time before allowing his gaze to travel lower. A thin trickle of white was already tracing the back of one smooth-skinned thigh. His seed. Akihiko's seed.

The amethyst-eyed man leaned closer, chest convulsing with a different sort of pain he had never felt. Hiroki's face was obscured by the hair that clung to his cheeks and raggedly curtained his eyes. Akihiko had no way of knowing that those eyes were wide open.

_Have I been missing something this whole time?_

A cold hand rose and fastened around the smaller, warmer one, and Akihiko gave one gentle tug; to his clenching surprise, Hiroki was pulled up into a sitting position with impossible ease. Every limb of the beautiful body was drooping and limp and defeated and

_Broken._

Briefly, the violet eyes stole downwards to confirm what he'd felt; it was true. Hiroki's cock was flaccid and Akihiko saw no telltale white spurts, either on himself or on the pale chest before him. _So he didn't come._

It somehow made everything worse. Akihiko raised his eyes to meet brown ones, and there was a moment of blameless connection.

Then he gasped as his eyes slammed shut again.

_I've been blind_

His breath hitched; he paid it no heed, willing himself to forget what he had just seen. His hand tightened around Hiroki's and he now stared at his own knees; he had not, _had not_ seen that—had not seen—

He had _not_ just seen his own truth reflected so stabbingly in the eyes of another. He refused to accept it and knew it was true and now his head spun gracelessly with things that he should have seen all along.

_I have been blind._

_How could I not have wondered why he asked…_

Hiroki's eyes smoldered with all the strength of dying coals, spent and weary.

Akihiko had…

_I just put out the fire._ His breathing grew shallower. _I just put out my tunnel of fire._

How had he not wondered at Hiroki's suggestion, at the tenderness with which he was attended to, at all those insignificant and forgettable but never-forgotten things that he had chosen not to know, at the _heat_ of the man—at the heat that he had just extinguished

_You love me._

It was not sudden in coming to him. But he knew now. _You love me._

_For how long have you loved me?_

_For how long,_ replied his impulse distantly,_ have you wanted him?_

He opened his mouth and shut it again; he had nothing to say. _Then it's my fault…it's my fault?_

_And all I've been able to do is obey my impulse?_

He was beginning to grow faintly dizzy: he bowed his head, still clutching Hiroki's throbbing, sweat-cold hand. Their pulses met and fluttered out of tune as he clenched his eyes shut with pain; lucidly now he saw two boys walking down a winter street sharing a pair of gloves, a silver-haired teen kissing the smaller one like his life depended on it, notebooks filled with childish stories given to a willing reader, eighteen-year-old Hiroki munching salmon crackers, flushed red with illness hours after a certain phone call—drunk, limping—eyes filling with tears—Hiroki, _Hiroki_ through it all, passionate, fiery, and hopelessly lovely.

'_Akihiko, I—I…'_

_I love you?_

Akihiko's heart broke.

_But I never loved you._

On many levels—on so many levels, and yet not enough—he refused to believe it still. Refused to believe that Hiroki loved him, because…_because it's my fault. It's always been my fault._ Something he had once told himself now surfaced with eerie accuracy.

_For one taste, I've changed him._

_It's my fault._

With one last, harsh surrender to his urge, he raised Hiroki's hand to his lips and mumbled an unworded apology into those quivering fingers. Then, clenching his eyes shut to salve the prickling that had begun in them, he turned away and rose to get dressed, still clutching the blindfold.

_Because Hiroki was my impulse…_

_To rid myself of this impulse…did I have to rid myself of Hiroki?_

oOo

Aikawa had not been at his apartment when he returned, but the instant he had shut the door behind him he ran to his laptop. There he wrote until it grew too dark to see the keys even with the glow of the screen. He rose, turned on the light, and wrote until it grew too bright for artificial lighting.

_Hiroki loves me._

_Loved me?_

_Will still love me?_

_I've been blind._

And through it all, he wrote: he wrote what he could and what he could not understand, he wrote until he knew nothing but the glow of his screen and the music of his keyboard, and the words that he did not think poured out of him. The things that he would not allow himself to feel now surged into his writing.

He finally did get it out of his system.

Then he lay on his bed, utterly drained, deadline met and soul frozen. The scarf that had blinded him and, at the same time, restored his vision was still resting in a loosely fisted hand; he could not look at it or smell it, but the feel of the fabric seemed to assure him that not all was lost as his eyes traced stationary patterns on the dawn-lit ceiling.

_I've been so blind all along._

When he could fight it no longer, he rolled onto his side, smashed his face into a pillow, and cried again; softly, methodically this time.

_I've been blind…_

These were the tears of weak relief…the relief of finally submitting to an uncontrollable impulse, the grief of seeing something precious break beyond repair as a consequence, the guilt of no regret.

_He was an impulse that I tried to control and could not._

_Kamijou Hiroki was my first impulse._

Amends would come, he thought, inching closer to the morning; but for now he was weary of himself, of how short-sighted he had been, how utterly _blind._ This realization soared into him with the freedom of a firework, and yet his night stayed unlit. The fire had been doused. _I will love the ash now…left in the dark._

Somewhere in his heart, gentle grey eyes smiled.

_Is this what you wanted?_ He asked himself bitterly, as his exhaustion won over and his eyes, still wet, began to close. _Is this how you saw it ending?_

There was no reply. The voice of his impulse had been stilled forever.

oOo


	24. Epilogue I: Nowaki

_Epilogue I: Nowaki_

**[A/N] These two epilogues are to give the two hapless victims of this story their happy endings :D I'm pretty sure you can guess what the next one will be. Love you, all my reviewers.**

oOo

'I'm sorry…'

It was what Akihiko himself intended to say at the exact same time. It was the only thing that he'd decided for sure on his way to Hiroki's house; he knew that if nothing else, there had to be an apology, and it had to come from himself.

Ten days after he first realized the true extent of his blindness, it still managed to surprise him in new ways; it sneaked up on him when writing, filled his belly when eating, wet his eyes when sleeping. Hiroki had been elusive at the university, showing up with no set pattern of attendance and leaving too early for Akihiko to catch hold of. This, too, was one of the reasons the author had finally forced himself all the way here: Hiroki never missed a class.

_I do know him in some ways, after all._

There had been no hot-blooded impulse in his footsteps as they echoed in the hallway. Every part of him was calculating the moment with deliberation; his apology was long, long overdue. It had been pending since the night of that first kiss when his regret throbbed in him and begged forgiveness. He had not said it then, but he was no longer that boy either.

The loss of his impulse, he realized, made a new man of him.

_A better man, hopefully._

But he never did get the chance to say it. Someone said it for him.

'I'm sorry', the dark-haired man was saying, one hand over Hiroki's eyes and a bare arm around his chest. He had drawn the smaller man into this possessive embrace just as Akihiko opened his mouth; his startlingly blue eyes gleamed with intelligence and anger and hostility.

'I'm sorry, but I'll be taking Hiro-san.'

The moment he heard his own words thrown back to him before he could offer them—the moment he registered the nakedness of the man's chest, the lack of struggling on Hiroki's part—as soon as the man said 'take', which had been a privilege given to Akihiko alone—he knew it was over. He scrambled to think even as his bewildered heart grew cold.

_Hiro-san?_

'Nowaki?' Hiroki spluttered, before he was swept inside and the door slammed in Akihiko's stunned face.

_Nowaki…_a typhoon? _A fire and a typhoon._

He pressed an ear to the wood.

There was shouting from across the door, an unwavering confession, and—though he could not see it—a mute acceptance. He may not know Hiroki that well even after all this time, but Akihiko knew that nobody would push away a love that was offered so freely after who knew how many years of pointless waiting.

_It really was pointless…all of it._ 'When I first met you, you were crying…that was because of Usami-san, wasn't it?'

This knowledge was only another dull blow to his chest now; he had already surmised that he had been the cause of Hiroki's irresistible tears on more than one occasion. It was fitting, he supposed, for those tears to usher in a new sort of feelings that neither of the two had known.

Not waiting for the inevitable aftermath of what had just transpired in Hiroki's apartment, he stepped away from the door and realized, with a gentle pang, that they would be using the bed.

_It's no longer mine. I have no claim over him now._

_Nowaki, whoever you are and wherever you come from…if you mean well…make that man happy. My first impulse…make him happy like I never did. Don't—_

_Don't let him cry again._

As he walked away, for the first time since he took and lost Hiroki, he smiled. And not even his unsaid apology could embitter the rich, sweet sadness of that smile.


	25. Epilogue II: Misaki

_Epilogue II: Misaki_

_Light at Last_

oOo

It was like opening his eyes. …like ripping off a blindfold.

This was the last time he would break, he was sure of it; as he blinked his feeble way into the glow of something so long denied him, the boy cried on. 'I'm sorry', Misaki sniffed, 'I'm so sorry…'

'Why are you apologizing to me?' _When did anything worthy of an apology happen to _me?

'Because it's just terrible!' sobbed the boy, turning away to offer Akihiko the shaking of his narrow back. 'You loved him so much, Usagi-sensei…'

_And you saw it immediately._ Even through his misery, Akihiko felt a reluctant grin cross his face as he heard: 'You care for him so much—and he—and he said he was going to introduce her to you first! H-he's completely out of it!'

The twenty-eight-year old author welcomed the onrush of feeling within him, welcomed it with open arms.

_Light…_

'This is th-the first time I've ever wanted t-to hit him…'

'Don't make a mess of yourself by crying', said Akihiko gruffly. 'Look at you!'

'Shut up!' yelled Misaki through his tears, but he frantically tried to wipe his face nonetheless. 'It's your fault I'm crying! You idiot! If I st-start crying, I can't stop!'

_This is it!_

'I see', breathed Akihiko, and his hand was in the deep brown hair, tilting up a tear-splotched face; lips met lips and he shut his eyes against his own surprise. Only…he wasn't so surprised anymore at all.

_Light. Not fire, just light._

Light that he could bask in without being burnt to death…or ashes. When he felt the slim fingers—fingers that were so like Takahiro's—grip his shirt, he released Misaki's mouth and laughed softly into the red face. 'See? It stopped.'

_Cheering-up charm?_

No. A real kiss.

He let his head drop onto the waiting shoulder, heart wobbling with pain and realization. 'I'm sorry', he whispered at last. 'Just for a little while…' he held the boy close even as the little hands clutched at his back, communicating an innocent, pure-hearted comfort.

'Usagi-sensei, it's okay to cry, you know…'

_I know…_ 'Don't be patronizing, kid', he mumbled through the first swell of grief that was numbing him already. 'You know…I've never cried in front of anybody but you.' _Easy._

_Easy to say what I mean._

_Like I'd let anyone else see me like this._ 'Like I'd let anyone else see me like this', he said, his voice damp but fluid with ease. _He's light._

There were tears sliding into his hair, tears that did not belong to him.

With this last release of the pain he had so willingly embraced, Akihiko could only hope that his darkness had finally broken for good…he suddenly felt exhausted, weak. The weak relief of submitting…of surrendering…he could feel it again, feel it with no regrets…feel it forever. _So…_he tried to think through the warmth that was his pain leaving him…

_So this really is it._

He submitted at last to what he needed; he and Misaki clung to each other, and a new generation of voiceless impulses began to swirl in him even as his own tears blurred his world beyond comprehension.

_The End_

oOo

**[A/N] Oh my fucking god, it's over. I don't really know why but my heart is POUNDING away to glory and I think I might be having a palpitation attack or something. I just want you people to know that this wouldn't have been possible without your feedback and encouragement, and that I love you all. *glomps Ricchan back*I know both the epilogues are shorter than intended, but I decided they would be better that way; stretching it out turned it into an omake sort of thing and I certainly didn't want that. So…short and bittersweet it was. :P I just CANNOT do completely sweet; me no have sweet tooth. But I think this last one is enough.**

**I appreciate everybody's strong reactions to the sadder parts of this story; writing aside, not every reader can feel the emotions of a fictional person, so you are wonderful. My mother, who is a pretty terrific writer herself, told me that the ultimate purpose of an author is to make the reader empathize with every single character, and I hope I have been successful. Um, my chest is still thumping pretty badly so I think I should get my blood pressure checked ^_^ maybe it's because for the first time in my life I could put a 'The End' on a story that I began; this is my first complete multi-chaptered story, fanfiction or otherwise. Goes to show, it's only because of my readers and reviewers :D**

**So now that you've got this far, won't you leave this poor author a review? ^_^ Hopefully some of you are also following my ongoing Egoist fic, For the Reclaimed, but nonetheless…until next time,**

**Ego and Psyche**


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